Memoir
by irk
Summary: Xelloss, Firia and a 10yearold Valteria must fight to keep their family together as a dragon race's ambition changes the world as they know it.
1. Memoir Prologue

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Memoir - Prologue  
  
* * *  
  
Memoir is a sequel to The Persistence of Memory, a lemon of mine. If you would like to read it, it is here: www.katido.com/~snapple/ficarc/pom.html  
While reading PoM is heavily reccommended, it is not absolutely required.  
PoM is NC-17 for heavy sexual content and Memoir is rated R for sexual content, profanity, violence, just being dark, and containing scenes where Xelloss has the opportunity to cook a meal over an open flame.  
Parental guidance is strongly advised against.  
  
It has been ten years since Dark Star and Vorfied were pushed from this world. Ten years since Firia set up her pottery shop. Ten years since Valteria hatched from his shell.  
It has been eight years since Xelloss was captured by the Golden Dragons. Eight years since he was tortured in Devil's Nest. Eight years since Milgasia and Firia rescued him. Eight years since Xelloss' mazoku memories were almost completely erased. Eight years that Xelloss has been, for all intents and purposes, human.  
Eight happy years.  
Eight years is a long time, but the Golden Dragons still remember Xelloss, and Milgasia still remembers Firia.  
Memories come back to haunt you, even when they've been forgotten.  
  
* * *

  
  
The cell was huge. Perfectly round, its single wall encircled a floor fifty feet in diameter. Like the rest of Devil's Nest, it was made entirely of stone. But unlike in the thousands of other dungeons in this prison fortress, the wall and floor here were clean and sterile polished granite. The ceiling was high enough to give echoes to the softest of whispers. There were no windows. Why would there be? This cell was in the deepest depths of Devil's Nest, surrounded on all sides by thick walls, paranoid guards and row upon row of single-prisoner dungeons.  
  
The guards always told the prisoners here: "Make yourselves at home. They bury you this deep in Devil's Nest when they never plan on letting you out."  
  
This was actually just a joke. In reality, no one in the upper levels of Devil's Nest gets out either.  
  
Bolted into the floor in the center of the cell was an iron ring. The ring was a foot wide and two inches thick. It looked old somehow, as if it had existed from the beginning of time and only now chose to squat in the middle of this cold den of stone.  
  
Strung from this ring were heavy chains that were welded to the wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs and collars of the 75 golden dragons shivering naked in the chamber.  
  
74 of these dragons were of the Water Dragon King's tribe. They had been gathered a few at a time, caught in sparse numbers and saved up in here for a rainy day. Their clothes and valuables had been taken long before they were chained into their new home. They were rather quiet now, even the few children were silent. [There were no mothers. The mothers had died before they would let their young ones be stolen, but after their slaying there was no one to stop the taking...] There were stints of conversation every now and then, but it was all involving rumors [_Did they **really** kill the Hierephists?_] or fears [_They're not going to feed us after this week, they're just going to wait and see who eats who first..._] or truths [_This place is Hell itself._]  
  
They were being fed, the ill were attended to when neccessary, and they were even taken to facilities for bathing and sanitary functions at regular intervals. But the food, while certainly enough to live on, was bland and visually unappealing. Healing was executed with a smug grin that told the recipient they were only putting off the inevitable. The guards jeered at the prisoners as they dunked them in freezing water and then watched them during every minute set aside for elimination.  
  
The process was meant to degrade them, to kill their hope and murder their pride.  
  
For 73 of the dragons here, it had worked.  
  
Dragon 74 hadn't been here long enough to even look up at the ceiling. Milgasia was still unconscious, his condition nothing that his fellow dragons could help him through.  
  
Dragon 75 had never even seen the Water Dragon King's temple, let alone been a member of his tribe. She was the last of the Fire Dragon King's clan. Her last act in her priestesshood had been to divest herself of it. But as she watched the dragons around her weep for the injustice of everything, Firia felt the urge to pray to her God once again for the first time in over ten years. She stroked Milgasia's hair, worrying over how he had begun mumbling in his sleep an hour ago. Did he have a fever? He felt too cold for that...  
  
Firia bit her lip. She wanted so badly to be able to attend to Milgasia, but the wards here were so heavy and fierce that she doubted she could fire off a light spell without being blasted across the room. The other dragons had told her about the healers that cared for injuries here. Where were healers for Milgasia, then?!  
  
But she knew why the healers wouldn't come. She had been all but directly told that Milgasia could stay asleep forever and the jailers wouldn't care at all. Troublemakers like him didn't get special attention. The fact that this outraged her so much was exactly why the wardens had let her know about it. They knew that she cared for him. They knew that Milgasia wouln't die of his injuries. And they knew that while the dragon's health was on the line, Firia wouldn't dare misbehave.  
  
They had her on a leash much stronger than the iron cuff around her neck.  
  
The poor dragonfolk in here didn't need such encouragement. But then, the dragons in here hadn't attempted a jailbreak, or stolen property, or sabotaged equipment... Yes, Firia was a bad dragon. And she knew that she was only being kept in here for her own misery. The fate of these dragons was not the same as hers. The wardens' eyes had told her that they were keeping her for something 'special'.   
  
She didn't want to know what it was.  
  
Firia looked around her, at the crying children and grief-struck guardians, and tried desperately not to think of Xelloss. How long woud it take for him to wonder when she would return? When would he start to worry that she wouldn't? And who would support him through the grief when she never came back-  
  
She was going to stop thinking about Xelloss.  
  
The entire congregation looked up as a telltale clank announced that the door to their home was being opened. Immediately they looked down again as several jailors strode inside, surveying the crowd. No one wanted to bring attention to themselves by making eye contact.  
  
Firia too kept her eyes to the floor, knowing that she already had too high of a chance of catching the visitors' fancies. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a female figure stalk past.  
  
"We're picking, oh honored guests of Devil's Nest! One lucky Fwin gets to leave this cel..." the female ran her tongue over her teeth, "...forever. Who will it be?"  
  
Firia couldn't stop herself from looking over her shoulder as a guard yanked a young male dragon to his feet. "Shall it be you? Oh, don't be so shy, sir! Your legs seem to be weak. You need excercise! Oh no, too scrawny. Reject." The dragon was flung back to the floor in a clatter of ringing iron chains as another elderly dragon was hauled upright. "Perhaps a lass with experience? No, you wobble too much. And you're shriveled. Reject." Another dragon was dragged to stand, and another, the female warden taking tremendous glee from watching terror slide from face to face.  
  
The captives grew jittery, starting when a jailer brushed their shoulder or passed them by. Firia tried to stay nondescript and not draw attention to herself. Knowing her luck, she would only cause more trouble.  
  
Suddenly a child squealed as she was lifted high above the floor. "Aha! Ripe for the picking, fresh for the press. Young blood is the best!"  
  
"NO!"  
  
The guards froze in their tracks as the prison grew silent with that one echoing syllable.  
  
Firia found herself kneeling before the female lead guard before her mad scramble across the floor could even register in her memory. "Please. Please leave her alone." Firia fortified her voice with steel as the warden glared down at her. "Take me. See? I'll go willingly. I won't even fight. I'll do anything you say. Isn't a cooperating subject better than a struggling prisoner or a wailing child?"   
  
The dragon she had knelt in front of grinned, showing off serrated teeth. The ice-hued catseye in her ear glittered with the same malicious wink as her own yellow irises. She leaned over slowly, frozen blue pupils staring straight into Firia's. "I can assure you, the offer is greatly appreciated and will be," the guard licked her lips, "_fully accepted_." She waved a hand, and with her signal the child was dropped into the arms of a nearby dragon. "However, I must know-" she hooked her fingers under Firia's chin, clawlike nails digging painfully into her flesh, "-are you crazy? I think you're crazy. It won't really make a difference one way or the other," her fingernail dragged back and forth against Firia's throat as she spoke those last words, "but I really just want to know ahead of time if we're actually going to be able to drive you insane. Because if the deed's already been done, then we won't bother trying."  
  
Firia's breath caught in her throat as she tried to answer. Now that she actually could look up at the warden, she discovered with horror that her jailer's armor was covered in dragon fangs. They were too small to be Golden Dragon fangs, probably some lesser beast. But why would a Gold kill its own kind and wear its parts for clothing?! "Your -- your armor!"  
  
A blow across her face knocked Firia to the floor. "Now, was that an answer to my question? No, it wasn't. It was insolence. Don't dare to address me if you have no knowledge of my name or station!" The warden yanked a fistful of Firia's hair, pulling her back to her knees. "My name is Avril, and my title is Devil's Knight. You refer to me as Dv'Naught Avril. Say it." Avril nudged Firia's brusied cheek with a knuckle.  
  
"Dv'Naught Avril." Firia kept her eyes fixated on the small space of floor in front of her knees.  
  
"See? You're not stupid. It _must_ be insanity." Avril waved her hand and Firia was hauled up between two guards, their arms curled under hers. The warden snapped Firia's collar and cuffs off by simply pulling them apart with her bare hands. They proceeded out of the cell, Avril following Firia as she was dragged out. The former priestess didn't struggle against the guards - she knew by now the extreme importance of good behavior. Their strength obviously dwarfed hers anyhow.  
  
"You don't really know what I am, do you?" Avril tapped Firia's flank with a lash that had been tucked into her belt. "Then again, you are a rather queer one. You're obviously not a pitiful little Water Gold. But you are some sort of Gold, are you not?" The sting of leather across her thigh prompted Firia to answer.  
  
"Yes." It wasn't a whisper, but it was very soft.  
  
"Ahhh. I am a Sky Gold. Ouros is my King, the highest of all dragons. That makes me part of the greatest of all dragon clans. And that makes you..." - the end of the lash slid down Firia's back - "one of the Lower Golden Races. A Fwin. Poor little thing. We do feel sorry for you."  
  
Firia fought the instinct to jerk away as the lash trailed along the curves of her body. Avril was only hungering for a reaction that she could punish. A Sky Dragon? Firia had never met members of any of the other dragon races because she was born after the Barrier was erected. Contact with other Golds was impossible until very recently, and even then she didn't seek it out. Milgasia had been the only other one she had met. And a Fwin? Where had she heard that word? Certainly she had never seen this kind of derision directed at other dragons...  
  
Firia's stomach turned. Except for the Ancients. That was right...she had heard the term before. The Chief Elder had referred to the Ancients occasionally as Fwin, but never explained what the term really meant.  
  
Firia began to feel sick with the dawning of a new understanding for her past and a rebirth of fear for her captors.  
  
"You seemed very surprised at my clothing, Fwin. Why?" Avril's voice was as playful and light as the brush of leather through Firia's hair.  
  
"I've never seen a dragon wear...parts of dragons."  
  
Avril chuckled low and long. "You _have_ never seen a Sky Dragon before! Well." She licked her lips, mulling things over. "You probably won't understand this, but I'll explain it anyway." Suddenly, Avril yanked Firia away from the guards and pinned her against the rough stone wall of the corridor. One hand held Firia's wrists above her head while the other wrapped very tightly around her neck. She leaned against Firia, her lips almost touching the Fwin's cheek as she spoke.  
  
"Do you feel this? This is what it feels like to be owned. I am an Ourach, and by rights you are mine. This is the natural way of things, and for me to take mementos of my possessions is only my right. Do you understand? They were all mine to begin with. Everything within my grasp..." Avril squeezed Firia's wrists, "...is my possession." She let go of Firia's neck, took each hand within hers, and guided the palms to rest against the lower edges of the armor shielding her breasts. She pulled Firia's wrists down, letting the Fwin's fingers brush against the small fangs embedded there in the metal's rim. The teeth couldn't possibly be more than an inch long. No dragon had teeth that tiny...  
  
...Unless it was in human form. But only Golden Dragons-  
  
Firia couldn't stop herself from jerking away. The Ourach slammed her back against the wall, the fangs along her armor jabbing into the dragon's bare skin. Avril pressed against her captive. A whimper escaped Firia's throat as Avril ran her teeth along it.  
  
"Now. Do you understand this?" Avril closed her jaws, squeezing a fold of Firia's skin between sharp fangs.  
  
"No!" Firia's anguished cry echoed through the prison, rousing the weary from sleep and stirring the fears of the restless.  
  
The Devil's Knight brushed a claw up and down the flesh of Firia's wrists. She parted from the Fwin's neck. "I knew you wouldn't understand." She dropped Firia's wrists and stepped away, letting the dragon collapse onto the floor in a fit of sobs. The guards scooped her up again and resumed the journey at Avril's command.  
  
Avril flicked the lash over Firia's thighs. "You're an interesting specimen. Our master will positively adore you." Firia didn't reply, her energy drained and her heart heavy with dread.  
  
The journey led them far from the center of Devil's Nest, and as time crawled by Firia realized that the rock walls had changed. They were a different type of stone. And the air here wasn't stale and long buried, but rather fresh and crisp. Devil's Nest was situated close inside a cluster of mountains. At the depth they had started from, Firia and her captors could very well have traveled into an adjacent mountain without ever seeing the light of day.  
  
Avril smirked. "Congratulations. You're one of the priveledged few to actually leave Devil's Nest after entering it."  
  
Firia declined to reply that she had already achieved that feat eight years ago. Besides, there was no more time for conversation. They had arrived at a thick iron doorway which Avril pulled open as if it were nothing. Firia decided that Sky Dragons definitely must be stronger than Fire Dragons. She'd have no chance of budging a chunk of iron that large.  
  
They entered the room, Firia's toes dragging through thick carpet. It was so quiet here. In Devil's Nest there had always been the ambient noise of chains and pleas and sobs, slamming doors and pounding hearts. The stone corridors had been filled with echoing footsteps and phantom voices. This room was the first truly peaceful place Firia could recall being inside of since she had left her home. The carpet absorbed the clacking of boots against floor and seemed to soak in the heavy breathing of the two guards. Darkness settled around the room, brushed aside by the occasional glowing wall sconce. The place was decorated in deep tones of burgundy and dark, dark red. Rich mahogany cabinets and glass shelves on black iron frames rested against the walls.  
  
It was quite large. Firia noted that the ceiling was as high as that of her former cell, and the room was almost as wide as it. The guards carried her to the far side where a curious piece of furniture squatted. It was a deep red velvet cushion resting in a heavy bowl-like iron frame. The thing was tilted forward enough to make it a very comfortable chair, but it was too large for that. It stretched seven feet across.  
  
The guards turned so that Firia's back faced the cushion and then pulled her onto it. Avril grasped her ankles as Firia sank into the couch. The Devil's Knight pushed her feet down until soft lined cuffs wrapped around them.  
  
"The metal in these is far beyond your strength to strain, so even if you're insolent enough to struggle it won't accomplish anything. Ah, good girl." Avril tugged at Firia's wrists, praising her limp muscles. "See? I wish all of our prisoners were this smart. You know we'd beat you senseless if you misbehaved, don't you?"  
  
"Yes." Firia didn't care if Avril was being rhetorical or not. The Ourach pulled her wrists out to the sides and pressed them into the velvet to be cuffed. Her legs and arms spread over the couch, resembling the shape of an X. With that, Avril and her assistants backed away. Instead of lurking over Firia and teasing her, they stood at what might be considered attention. They looked like they were waiting for someone.  
  
Firia stayed silent, trying to relax in this strange chair. She shivvered. Her clothing had been stripped off before she'd been incarcerated with the other dragons, but not until this moment had she felt truly naked. Maybe it was the sensation of soft velvet against her skin. Or perhaps it was the fact that being chained up like this made her completely vulnerable to whatever her captors wanted to try. But Firia thought that it was more likely that the room itself made her want to be clothed. In the dungeons, when she was chained up and surrounded by prisoners, her nudity had a context. In that state of complete hopelessness, what was the lack of clothing but just another way of making her feel like an object? But this was a place of introspection and dignity. With no clothing, Firia felt out of place.  
  
_And I feel like a specimen on a lab table, waiting to be examined._ Firia let her eyes drift to the ceiling and tried to lose herself in the weaving black vines of the fresco that adorned its molding. Why couldn't she just forget where she was and why she was here? She couldn't help but think of her son as she lied there in silence. What would he be doing right now? Firia couldn't even tell what time of day it was. Maybe he was sleeping. Yes. He would be lying in Xelloss' arms, the both of them completely oblivious to the rest of the world. Xelloss was a heavy sleeper when he was content. Valteria would wake up first. He would patiently rouse his dad and convince him to stay awake, and then Valteria would cook breakfast. Xelloss would make the tea and then put the biscuits in the oven. He was very good at baking. He could cook some things very well. He just wasn't allowed to handle anything non-tea that involved an open flame. Valteria had learned to cook very early. They made a very good team. Sometimes they let Firia sleep in and surprised her with breakfast in bed. Xelloss would ask Valteria if he could season the eggs himself this time, and Valteria would tell him absolutely not. And they would squabble until Xelloss pulled the biscuits out of the oven and whapped Valteria with a dishcloth. Then Valteria would poke holes in the yolks of Xelloss' eggs in retaliation, and they would sit and eat. Xelloss would complain about his eggs.  
  
Firia realized she was crying. She panicked for a moment as she realized that she couldn't wipe the tears away. She didn't want the Ourachs to see them. It was okay to cry in front of the guards before, and she had done it quite a lot. But this crying had been for her family, and Firia wanted these dragons to see the tears as much as she wanted them to see her husband and son. She turned her head to the side, wiping her cheek against the velvet cushion.  
  
Firia blinked. She could now see a door six feet from her chair. It was made of wood and had more mundane proportions than the door she had entered through.  
  
It was opening.  
  


* * *  
  



	2. Memoir Chapter 1

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Memoir - 1  
  
* * *

  
  
Xelloss yawned. Valteria hadn't let him sleep in this morning. It wasn't fair. Firia was away on a trip. He should be able to wake up whenever he pleased! Young children were entirely too energetic.  
  
But a good pot of tea would stir his mind awake. Xelloss dropped in the peppermint leaves. He really didn't understand this 'proper breakfast tea' concept. Peppermint was good for any time of the day, as far as he was concerned.  
  
Valteria had the eggs and bacon covered, so all Xelloss had to take care of was the biscuits. Fair enough. He made short work of the dough and popped the baking pan into the oven.  
  
"Hey, Terry. Can I season the eggs a little? You're a tad conservative with the salt." He grabbed for the salt shaker, which Valteria clutched behind his back.  
  
"Absolutely not. Don't you remember what happened the last time we let you touch anything that was sitting over an open flame?"  
  
Xelloss planted his hands on his hips. "I will have you know that I am perfectly good at brewing tea!"  
  
"Tea doesn't count!" Valteria adopted Xelloss' obstinate pose down to the scowl of authority. "You ruined an entire pot of spaghetti sauce! Mom never bought bay leaves again!"  
  
"I can salt eggs, Terry! What harm can a little salt do?"  
  
Valteria shook a wooden spoon in front of Xelloss' nose. "In your hands, this salt shaker could kill a city!"  
  
"Now wait JUST A- the biscuits are done."  
  
The chefs attended to their separate duties with no mention of the argument. Xelloss nudged the biscuits off of the baking pan and onto a wide plate with lavender tulips sprinkled delicately on the rim. Firia had painted the china set a few years ago when she'd been bedridden with some sort of flu. She had liked the design so much that she even made a teapot to match after her recovery. Xelloss lifted the lid of the tulip-shaped pot and peered inside. He dropped a handful of cloves in and let them brew with the peppermint.  
  
Xelloss looked over to Valteria, who was sprinkling a little more salt on the eggs before laying them in pairs onto two tulip-bedecked plates. The ten-year-old jumped as his father whapped him over the head with a dishcloth. "Hey! What'd you do that for?!"  
  
Xelloss held his head aloft, looking down his nose at Valteria. "For being stubborn." He carried the teapot and biscuits over to the table and poured two cups of tea as Valteria laid bacon onto the plates. He glared at the back of Xelloss' head and popped the yolks of his fried eggs with a fork. He then laid out the plates and sat down to eat.  
  
"Hey!" Xelloss blinked at his eggs. "Terry, you know I like the yolks whole. What'd you do that for?"  
  
Valteria held his head up in a perfect imitation of Xelloss' previous haughty expression. "For being stubborn." He then cut his eggs up into neat, even pieces and ate with satisfaction as his father glared at him.  
  
"Well." Xelloss sipped his tea and cut his bacon into small pieces. "I see how it is."  
  
"Yup. You're not blind _yet_." Valteria took a sip of his tea with Xelloss' same air of aloofness. He then choked.  
  
Xelloss raised an eyebrow. "What?"  
  
Valteria glared at his father. "How many cloves did you put in the pot, Dad?"  
  
"Oh! Just ten. I figure that way it's five each, right?" Xelloss smiled and started to work on his sadly mutilated eggs.  
  
"..." Valteria got up and poured himself a glass of orange juice.  
  
Xelloss sighed between forkfuls of eggs. They still needed a little more salt.  
  
Breakfast passed with no more quarrels. The pair then got to work. Just because the shop closed when Firia was gone didn't mean that there was nothing to do. On the contrary, Xelloss and Valteria tried to work extra hard when Firia was away. It meant they had time for heavy-duty repairs and cleaning. It also meant that Firia would be very impressed when she returned and probably express her gratitude via cookies.  
  
Xelloss and Valteria would do an awful lot of work for a cookie.  
  
Today's stint of spring cleaning involved the the kiln room and the ceramics workshop. Firia had built up quite a lot of additions to the house over time. There was a woodworking room, and a painting studio, and a very large warehouse to hold both handmade and purchased goods. Xelloss and Valteria never had to look far for things to do under their many roofs.  
  
Valteria swept the ceramics workshop. This was quite a task as the vast holdings of clay in the room amounted to a great deal of dry clay particles. The room had all kinds of nooks and crannies for dust to huddle in, and Valteria was determined to raid them all.  
  
Xelloss tackled the kiln room. The walls had row upon row of shelving along them. Bisqueware was strewn about, waiting for a coat of paint or glaze. And the kilns squatted along one bare wall, doors hanging open like gaping mouths. Xelloss always fancied the kilns to be dragons in his mind. Squat little fire-breathing dragons that feasted on clay. He never shared this private daydream with Firia. As he dusted the endless rows of shelves and fired ceramics, though, Xelloss imagined the kilns fighting over a particularly iron-rich chunk of red earth.  
  
After a few hours, the two met outside and sat on the steps together. The day was hot and pretty, and the shade was cool and had a nice personality. The pair were tired. They watched the clouds float across the sky as the occasional bird flitted overhead.  
  
These were the best moments. At times like this, neither father nor son really talked. They could just sit together, enjoy the view, and be happy in each other's company.  
  
These were the moments when Xelloss and Valteria never bickered at all.  
  
Thirty minutes passed before either really thought about anything in particular. Then the thought of food ran across Xelloss' mind.  
  
He ruffled Valteria's hair. The teal locks were mostly tied back in a very short ponytail, but the bangs were fluffy enough, parting in the middle of the boy's forehead. It was similar to Xelloss' hair. About seven years ago he'd started growing it just a little longer in the back so that he could keep it in a ponytail most of the time. Valteria had adopted the habit as well, leaving Firia to nag at both of them for never doing anything with their hair.  
  
"Terry? What do you want to eat for lunch?"  
  
Valteria blinked. "Hmm. We still have that cheese, don't we?" He traced an absentminded groove in the dust with his shoe.  
  
"Mmm-hmm. I baked a loaf of bread just yesterday. I could put some slices in the oven and we could have hot cheesy bread."  
  
The groove became a spiral. "Hmm. That sounds good."  
  
"Yup."  
  
The two sat in silence for a few minutes.  
  
Xelloss sighed. "But it requires getting up."  
  
"Yup." Valteria swept the spiral away with a flick of his toe. He looked up. "We'll have to get up anyway."  
  
"Why's that?" Xelloss closed his eyes and leaned back against the rough wooden door of the workshop.  
  
"Some idiot looks like he wants to shop."   
  
Xelloss opened one eye. Sure enough, a man was walking toward the store with what was obviously an intent to enter. "Argh. I'm going to have to go and tell him when we'll be open." The weary husband heaved himself to his feet. "You can stay here."  
  
"I was planning on it." Valteria leaned back and closed his eyes, smiling.  
  
"Change of plans. Go make the table."  
  
Valteria opened one eye and stared at his dad as he walked off. He sighed. "Stupid shoppers." Then he got up and trotted into the house.  
  
* * *  
  
Xelloss always felt a little strange when dealing with Firia's shop. He helped out in it whenever he could, of course, but he never ran it. That was Firia's job. She WAS the shop, really. She knew ceramics inside-out and backwards. Her head was a veritable encyclopedia of antique facts. She could answer any question that a customer could possibly think of. People came to her from some very faraway places for her expertise. She could find anything, and if it couldn't be found, she could probably make it. And she supplied very good maces at a reasonable cost.  
  
The shop wasn't itself without Firia around. So when she went on her buying and trading trips, the place closed. All Xelloss did at these times was keep it clean and politely tell people that they couldn't shop today.  
  
He came to a stop at the storefront, right under the hanging sign with its crossed vase and mace. Firia had never made up her mind over what to name her shop. Everyone else just called it "Firia's Unbreakables" until it stuck.  
  
"Hello!" Xelloss smiled and waved to the man as he walked up. "Firia's Unbreakables will be closed until my wife comes back from a merchant's run. She'll be the one you want if you're looking for information on those hard-to-get rare collectibles, or maybe just a little advice on touching up your family china. Come back at the end of the month and she'll be here with a whole new stock!" Xelloss held the grin in place. Firia had made him memorize the speech after Valteria had informed her of Xelloss' habit of happily telling people to go the hell away.  
  
The man looked rather nonplussed. Xelloss was used to this dissapointed reaction from eager customers. "Look, I am sorry you missed her. If you want, I can leave your name with her and she'll probably give you a discount on your next purchase. My wife really likes to establish a good relationship with her customers and feels pretty bad when one comes all this way to the shop only to find out that it's closed."  
  
The man sighed. Xelloss raised an eyebrow. Dejection was pretty normal, but this man looked downright annoyed at him. "My _name_," the man grumbled, "is Warren."  
  
_Well. I'll make sure you **don't** get a discount, Mr. Warren._ "Right! Well, we're about to have lunch now, and I'm sure you're probably doing the same soon enough." Xelloss waited for the man to catch his subtle hint. He really wanted to be rude about it, but he had gone SO long without angering a potential customer. Why waste breaking his record because of THIS surly bozo?  
  
"Your _wife_, huh?" Warren scrutinized Xelloss as an indescribable expression perched about his face. "I can't believe it."  
  
Xelloss' heart froze for a moment, but he kept his face and posture composed. It couldn't...the man's teal eyes DID look like slits, didn't they? It was a little difficult to notice at first. Dragons had slitted eyes. And Zelas' minions...didn't they all have dagger-shaped pupils just like Xelloss used to have? He couldn't really recall. He couldn't tell...maybe the man was just normal. He looked normal: shoulder-length periwinkle hair in a ponytail. Lean build. Plain and worn traveling clothes. He wasn't even Xelloss' height. Maybe he was human. Just a really rude one. But...  
  
_They're coming to get me! They'll take me back to Devil's Nest! Or to Zelas!_ "Um. Well, it was pretty lucky that we found each other."  
  
"I can certainly see that." The man's gaze flickered to the scar on Xelloss' right cheek, just under his eye.  
  
_And Zelas will punish me so badly for confessing her secrets under torture. I do remember THAT much about her._ "Well. Yes. So, how did you find Firia's shop? She likes to know how word gets out."  
  
"I guess if you look hard enough for something, it can't help but get found."  
  
_Either fate...they're the same thing, really. Either way I'll wish I'm dead..._ Xelloss' thoughts leapt to Valteria. He had to keep Valteria safe. But how could he signal him without letting Warren know about it? He had to keep up the illusion of calm. Oh gods, what if it WAS a mazoku? Then he could just taste Xelloss' panic, no matter how well he hid it! "So, where are you from then?"  
  
"Oh, across the ocean. A nice little island."  
  
_SHIT!!_ He WAS one of Zelas' mazoku! He'd been toying with Xelloss all along, sensing his suspicions from the start! What fight could Xelloss put up? He wasn't the mazoku he'd been eight years ago. He had no magical skills now, and what fighting prowess he had would be meaningless against a mazoku opponent.  
  
But Valteria...  
  
"Was that your son I saw you sitting with a few moments ago?"  
  
_Oh please no. No. Nonononono...._ "I beg your pardon?" He could still stall. Maybe Valteria was listening now. Maybe he would be smart and run. Valteria was a fast flyer, and a clever boy. "Oh, that neighbor kid? He probably ran off. He does that a lot, _now_ and then."  
  
Warren chuckled, shaking his head. "You have neighbors around here? This is the only house within a two mile radius."  
  
"He's a _very fast runner_. I see him _going_ at it all the time." Xelloss willed his heart to stop beating so fast. It was hammering against his chest, trembling like cornered prey. Please let Valteria be listening. Please please please-  
  
"I think Dad wanted you to leave."  
  
Xelloss couldn't believe his eyes. Valteria was standing beside him, holding a mace out so that the spikes on the end just barely avoided touching Warren's neck. How did he- he must have heard Warren and gotten suspicious! And then he'd grabbed Xelloss' mace and come out to help him.  
  
It was very touching, but Valteria didn't know what they were dealing with! This was a mazoku, probably a higher ranking one considering how haughtily he carried himself. Well, all mazoku were haughty. At least, Xelloss vaguely remembered that they might be haughty. He wasn't sure. But Valteria couldn't hurt the thing with just a mace! Especially THAT mace. Firia had cast it especially for Xelloss, making adjustments for the huge differences in strength between her and him. It looked formidable, but it was hollow, and much lighter than the usual stock.  
  
"Valteria!" Xelloss used the boy's full name, a true rarity for him. "This doesn't concern you. Now give that to me!" Xelloss couldn't decide whether to keep his eyes on Valteria or Warren. The latter appeared to be slightly amused.  
  
"Dad, I really think you should let me handle this." Valteria kept the mace at Warren's neck, his eyes not wandering from the stranger for a moment.  
  
"VALTERIA!" _Oh gods please oh gods please..._ "GIVE me that mace!!" Xelloss had never yelled at Valteria so forcefully. He couldn't remember a time when he had needed to.  
  
"...Dad..." Valteria's eyes stayed on Warren. "Dad, are you sure you know what this-"  
  
"NOW." _Please!_  
  
Valteria bit his lip, sighing through his teeth. He handed the mace to his father, gaze still rooted to Warren. Warren only smiled as if he thought this was the best entertainment he'd witnessed in years. Maybe it was, at that.  
  
Xelloss grabbed the handle of the mace as his son let go. "Now- AUUUGH!"  
  
_What am I doing on the ground? How did I end up here?_ Xelloss inhaled sharply as pain washed over him, hitting him hard and leaving him nauseous.  
  
"DAD! Dad, your hand! Dad!" Valteria was at his shoulder, kneeling in the dirt with him. "Are you okay? Dad, I'm sorry! Are you okay?"  
  
"I..." Xelloss stared down at his hand. It was pressed between the ground and the mace's handle. A wave of nausea hit him again. "Ugh...wha...what happened?"  
  
"I-I was trying to t-tell you that I wasn't holding your mace!" Tears budded in the corners of Valteria's eyes.  
  
"You wha- OH." Xelloss mentaly cursed himself. This was one of Firia's maces! As an Ancient Dragon, Valteria could toss something like this around like it was a stick. But Xelloss was as strong as a human who didn't care too much for heavy lifting. Just the handle was enough to...  
  
_Chaotic Mother, how many bones in my hand did it break?_ Xelloss squeezed his eyes shut. How were they going to take care of this? Firia was the healer of the family. Xelloss had a nice body of knowledge on home remedies, but this was nothing that could be solved with a few herbs or a special tea! Well, there was a doctor within maybe ten miles of the house...Valteria could fly him there pretty quick-  
  
Suddeny, reality flew back to Xelloss like a boomerang. _Warren!_  
  
"You two are very lucky I'm not a dragon." Warren shook his head, chuckling. "They're not nearly so easily amused. Now, why don't you invite me in?" He flicked his wrist, unlocking the shop. The door opened politely as Warren gestured to Xelloss. The mace lifted away gently, allowing unseen forces to carry Xelloss' body through the door. Warren followed him inside. He paused a few feet in and looked over his shoulder.  
  
"Valteria? Be a good boy. Show me where the kitchen is." Warren's fanged smile left no room for argument and no question of how much obedience he expected from his host.  
  
Valteria stepped inside, leaving the mace in the dirt. The door shut itself behind him.  
  


* * *  
  



	3. Memoir Chapter 2

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Memoir - 2  
  
* * *

  
  
Clutching his broken hand, Xelloss landed in the chair at the breakfast table and winced.  
  
"Have a seat," Warren said with a fanged smile. He pulled out another chair across from Xelloss. "And you. Join him." Warren held out his palm towards the chair as Valteria walked to the table and took his seat. "Good. I'm glad I could convince you to be so hospitable, Valteria." He leaned back against the counter, keeping one eye on the two tablemates and one eye on the cigarette he was rolling up in his hand. "If your father knew who I was, he may not have extended the same courtesy." He lit the cigarette with a flick of his finger. Warren drew in the smoke along with the pain ebbing from Xelloss' hand. The tastes mingled, complementing each other perfectly. "But then, perhaps that's why he seemed so eager to be rid of me."  
  
"Let him go." Xelloss' voice was weak, the culmination of so many past fears draining him. After Firia rescued him from the dragons, he'd been so afraid that Zelas would find him and take him back. Zelas would kill him for telling the dragons her secrets when they'd tortured him. But Valteria shouldn't be a part of that! "Please. Let him go. He won't hurt anything."  
  
Warren tsked, shaking his head. "I prefer to keep my ancient dragons where I can see them, Xelloss."  
  
"What _are_ you?" Valteria looked at Warren. "Are you a sorceror?"  
  
Warren paused, his face a wonderful blend of confusion and indignation. "_What_?"  
  
"None of the humans from here know magic, but you're from across the ocean. Are you a sorceror like Miss Lina?"  
  
"I..." Warren ground his teeth, resisting his almost overwhelming destructive urges. "A sorceror like Miss Lina. I see." He glared at Xelloss so fiercely that the parent flinched. His gaze flicked back to the boy. "You _must_ be _homeschooled_. Why don't you go outside and do something stupid?" Warren snapped his fingers. Valteria vanished.  
  
Xelloss leapt to his feet as the mazoku smirked. "Oh, relax. I just put him in a little pocket dimension of mine. Nothing can hurt him." The mazoku grinned. "Not without my permission, at least." Warren took a drag from the cigarette. "Now sit down, Xelloss. If that's even who you are anymore."  
  
Xelloss sank back into his chair, feeling numb despite the ache in his hand. "What do you want from me?"  
  
Warren sat in the chair that Valteria had previously occupied. "Well, that just depends on you, Xelloss. First, we're going to talk. After that, I have important decisions to make. Will I just kill you and then leave your son here to mind the body? Or do I take you both back to Wolf Pack Island?"  
  
"He doesn't need to be a part of this at all!"  
  
The mazoku blew a stream of smoke at Xelloss. "Did I ask you to speak? I don't believe that I did." As the gray haze reached Xelloss, the parent gasped. His hand felt like it was in a vise! "I'll let you know when I want to hear you. Now shut up." Warren blew the smoke away and Xelloss' hand grew as numb as his heart. "There. I'm sure that will help your attention span out." He looked around the kitchen. "I'm not discussing your fate without a good cup of tea to do it over. Do you mind?"  
  
Xelloss gestured to a cabinet as a strange feeling of calm seeped into his brain. Either the inevitability of the situation was getting to him, or the prospect of tea at the moment was just that relieving.  
  
Warren made his way to the cabinet, moving about the kitchen as if he owned it. He poked around a little before pulling out a few items and setting them on the counter. He popped open a canister of tea leaves and smelled them. He raised his eyebrows. "These are very fresh. Where do you get them?"  
  
"Firia can't buy certain things very often since we're quite remote. I refused to drink old leaves. So I've kept a garden behind the house for...I think nine years now."  
  
"_Nine years_?" Warren put the tea to boil. "That's a full year before you left us! You were keeping a garden in a golden dragon's backyard just so you could drink tea with her?"  
  
"Well, yes." Xelloss perched his chin in his good hand, studying Warren's facial expressions as their conversation progressed. For someone probably sent to kill him, Warren seemed far too troubled by his victim's personal life. Xelloss felt the familiar ache of longing as part of himself grasped for memories that weren't there and never would be.  
  
Maybe he'd known Warren.  
  
Warren's mouth twisted up as if he'd drunk something bitter that he couldn't spit out. "I know you had better things to do at the time, Xelloss."  
  
_That makes one of us._ Xelloss brushed a stray wisp of hair away from his face. Did Warren expect a reply from him? He might, but Xelloss didn't really think it was worth risking the pain of finding out otherwise.  
  
"What were you doing wasting your time here?"  
  
Xelloss sighed and shrugged. "I was in love. It hurt a little, but Firia was worth my time and my pain. She always has been."  
  
"Bullshit. I remember how much you hated her." Warren's eyes were blazing. "You said it to me yourself! You talked with me about her and Lina and the rest of them! _You told me you hated Firia_!"  
  
"I told Firia that too." Xelloss massaged his forehead, looking down at the table and away from Warren's searing gaze. "She said she hated me just as much. As I recall, we had a lot of sex that night. Apparently, we couldn't stand the sight of each other. So we just fought on a battleground where we could turn the lights out." He paused. "I could hate her a lot back then. She was always on my mind, after all. She felt the same way. I was actually the first to see what was really happening. But of course, I had the advantage of age. Firia was only 300. I was...well, I was a lot older than that." Xelloss looked up at Warren. "I told her I loved her the next day I saw her. We got into a huge fight. She even brought holy magic into it. Things got way past out of hand. So I, um..." Xelloss wiped away a drop of sweat. He wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Warren the rest.  
  
"You what, Xelloss?" Warren's face was a mask of perfect calm. It was most definitely lying.  
  
Xelloss cleared his throat. "Can I have some tea first? The whistle on the pot is broken, but I'm good at timing it. It should be done."  
  
"I should punish you for stalling." The mask cracked. Warren curled his hand very slowly into a fist.  
  
"I know." Xelloss' head was throbbing. "I know that very, very well. But is it worth losing tea over?"  
  
"No." Warren turned his attentions to the teapot. "You're right, Xelloss. You're not worth that much."  
  
For some reason, this stung Xelloss deeply. He stared back down at the table. His vision was almost swimming. His head hurt so badly. "Warren? I really need to eat." He winced. His hand throbbed with pain as the mazoku punished the unwanted comment. "I'm only human now, Warren. I have to eat." The pain persisted. "I know you're getting a very nice snack now, Warren. But I lost the ability to solve hunger that easily eight years ago. I get headaches if I don't get food. Sometimes I even faint." He shuddered as the unseen grip on his hand tightened so hard that he could swear something snapped. "If I faint, I can't bloody well cooperate, now can I?!"  
  
Warren turned around and glared at Xelloss. "Fine! Get up and fix something. Just _shut the hell up_!" He laid two cups on their saucers. "And if you so much as _think_ of doing something suspicious while you're up, your son will receive the punishment!" He walked to the table, carrying the tea tray in one hand and holding his cigarette with the other.  
  
Xelloss got up very slowly, seeing a few stars when he finally reached a standing position. He cut a few slices of bread, grabbed the cheese, and brought them all back to the table.  
  
Warren looked considerably more composed now. Possibly it was the tea that did it. Xelloss sat down just as slowly as he had risen, wincing as the stars came back. He turned his attention to spreading cheese on his bread. It was very difficult to do with one hand, especially with the way he was shaking.  
  
Warren watched this, looking almost concerned. "What makes hunger so harmful to you? You were swaying when you walked." He pushed a cup of tea toward Xelloss.  
  
Lifting the teacup very carefully, Xelloss swallowed a mouthful of peppermint brew. He sighed, then went back to cheesing his bread. "The process that made me human didn't do everything as well as it could have. We eventually went to the doctor about it. I don't have a weak heart, but sometimes it doesn't beat as fast as it should. And my body doesn't go long unfed without complaint. On the other hand, I apparently have amazing peripheral vision and very quick reflexes. So it supposedly evens out." Xelloss bit off a hunk of bread and chewed it with mild anger. "I'd rather wear glasses and not get splitting headaches, but nobody asked _me_."  
  
Warren blinked. "I see." He followed a hit of his cigarette with a sip of tea. "So. Your wife?"  
  
"Yes. Well." Xelloss took another swallow of tea to calm his nerves. "I couldn't stop Firia without hurting her, and if we went on fighting, I'd probably do something I regretted. So." He paused. Warren was still paying close attention. Damn. "I stopped fighting back and let her hit me. With holy magic." Xelloss stared into his teacup. "A lot."  
  
Warren's face twisted with incredulity. "You showed up at the lair after a few days' absence. You were in bad shape. You told me that you'd met up with an old foe that couldn't be defeated by any conventional means." He bared his fangs. "Xelloss. You let a single golden dragon work you over like Gaav had!"  
  
"Not true. Firia left both of my arms on." Xelloss took a sip of his tea. "And she was very sorry afterwards. She attacked for a very long time before she realized that I wasn't even shielding myself. I think she then finally realized that I hadn't told a lie to her since Valgaav had died. And that she had been telling lies to herself for even longer. It was a good thing she got a clue then, because I couldn't even stand up by that point."  
  
"One...single...dragon..." Warren's words were almost a growl. His eyes were glowing.  
  
"She asked me to marry her then. It was the strangest proposal I've ever heard of." Xelloss hoped that if he just went on, Warren's anger would pass. But as a surge of pain welled up from his hand, Xelloss realized that nothing he could say would make any difference. Still, he kept going. "I told her that we should probably not make any rash decisions that night. The wedding actually took place after I escaped from Devil's Nest."  
  
Something within Warren that been under strain for too long finally snapped. He hauled Xelloss up by the collar, barely avoiding knocking the teapot over. His entire body shook with anger. "YOU IDIOT! YOU FUCKING IDIOT! YOU LET HER SNARE YOU IN AND KEPT HER HOUSE AND WATCHED HER DAMN BRAT BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO AFRAID TO KILL HER BEFORE SHE TOOK OVER YOUR DAMN LIFE! YOU WERE SO WRAPPED UP IN YOUR INSANE LITTLE TOY FAMILY THAT YOU LET YOURSELF GET CAPTURED BY _DRAGONS_! BY FUCKING _DRAGONS_!!! You let..you...YOU LET THEM KILL XELLOSS AND NOW ALL I HAVE LEFT IS THIS SHAKING, BROKEN, HELPLESS LITTLE SHIT OF A HUMAN!" Warren threw Xelloss to the floor with all the strength he had.  
  
A shower of stars flooded Xelloss' vision. He couldn't feel anything. He was num-oh gods. He could feel everything. The stars rained harder against his eyes as he let out one long, strangled gasp. Where was Warren? He couldn't see. _Oh Lord of Nightmares, is that my arm I'm feeling?_ Xelloss tried to shift his weight away from the arm wedged under him. He had landed on it. It had probably taken the brunt of the fall, and all of the force that came with it. Why did it...oh no. Moving was bad. Moving was very bad. Moving was-  
  
Xelloss screamed. Why was he moving? He wasn't trying to move! What was happening?!  
  
"_Shut up, Xelloss! I swear I'll hurt you again_!"  
  
Warren! Warren was picking him up...oh gods. Xelloss wanted to be on the floor. The floor may have hurt him, but it didn't give him vertigo. Were his eyes open right now? He couldn't even tell.  
  
"Where the _hell_ is the bedroom, Xelloss?!" Warren was shaking him now. It made everything worse.  
  
"Th-th-the hall." Xelloss swallowed back a wave of nausea. "Left. Second...door...l-left...............h-help..."  
  
"Shut up! _Just shut up_!" Xelloss was silent as the world rocked up and down.  
  
Suddenly, the lurching stopped. Xelloss blinked through a haze of tears. He wasn't moving. He wasn't moving. _Thank L-sama..._ A weight pressed against Xelloss' chest so gently that he barely felt it. The pain in his body stopped cold in less than a heartbeat's time.  
  
Xelloss' vision cleared very slowly, the stars receding as sight came back to him like dawn.  
  
"Don't move. Please just don't move." Whatever hardness was in Warren's voice had broken. Xelloss looked up at the mazoku. The concern on his face was so alien that Xelloss wondered if he was dreaming. "I'll be right back. Just don't sleep. _If you sleep I will hurt you so bad_-" Warren's voice cracked. "Don't sleep." With that, he vanished.  
  
Xelloss didn't know exactly what was happening know, but he was very sure of one thing: he was not going to sleep.  
  
This was his bedroom! Well, Warren _had_ asked where it was. He'd apparently put Xelloss in bed. Xelloss thought this was definitely a good sign. Mazoku didn't exactly have a habit of making their victims comfortable before they made them dead. If Warren wanted to kill him, he would have done it in the kitchen.  
  
But if Xelloss wasn't going to die[for now], what _was_ he going to do? Or rather, what was Warren going to do with him? Xelloss had no desire to go to Wolf Pack Island. In fact, he really couldn't see what business he had there. The only possibility was that Zelas wanted him. If that was the case, why send a mazoku like Warren? He obviously enjoyed playing with his prey far too much. Xelloss didn't even remember what Zelas looked like, but he did know, somehow, that Zelas was very intelligent. Sending a mazoku like Warren to do _anything_ was a bad move, in Xelloss' biased opinion.  
  
So if Warren wasn't here as an assassin or as a delivery boy, what _was_ he here for? Not for the first time Xelloss wished that he had real memories of his mazoku life. He wanted to know what was going on. He wanted to prepare himself. And he was very worried about his son.  
  
Was Valteria okay? Xelloss would have to ask Warren when he got back. The prospect of pain didn't matter in this situation. Valteria was his son, and Xelloss had to be assured he was doing well.  
  
At least his mental index of spells and magical lore had suffered no ill effects from the memory wipe. Right now it was telling him that a simple pocket dimension would be nothing more than a bit of space that Warren had misaligned from all other planes, accessible only to him. As such, breathable air wouldn't be a problem, and harmful elements or creatures were too complex to be an aspect of what was essentially a very large pocket.  
  
At least, Xelloss was hoping that was the case.  
  
Following the order not to move was fairly easy. Xelloss couldn't feel pain anymore, but he knew there was no way he could walk. Lying back and relaxing was the best option at this point, and conveniently the easiest.  
  
_How can I be so numb but still feel so bad? The morning was so nice. We got work done, we had fun, we were happy. It was going to be a great day, and then this happens. What the hell am I going to do?_  
  
Suddenly, Xelloss was no longer alone.  
  
"-and if you tell your scaly friends about this, Lithshali, so help me I will find a way to keep you alive _no matter what_."  
  
_Ah! Warren's back!_ Xelloss wasn't exactly relieved. It had been much easier to relax when Warren was absent. _And he has a friend. Well, probably not a friend so much as an unwitting victim._  
  
Lithshali nodded. "Yes, Master Warren." He looked over towards the figure of the bed and gasped out loud. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.  
  
_But it's just me...of course, I am probably dead to the world at that._ Xelloss blinked. Slitted eyes again. But the pupils were narrower than Warren's, more reptilian. _A dragon?! What the **hell** is Warren doing with a dragon? ...Well, at least that explains the reaction. I'd wager that all dragons looked like that when they met me, back in the day._  
  
"H-how..." Lithshali blanched, shaking. "Is that HIM?"  
  
Warren hooked his finger under Lithshali's chin, staring deep into his eyes with a smile that could kill. "Who do you think it is? Whoever you think it is, that's who he is. So, since you know who it is, we don't really have to talk about it, now do we?" Warren's face was a better portrait of insanity than an entire madman. Lithshali shook from head to toe until Warren finally released him.  
  
Lithshali looked back at Xelloss, this time very hesitantly. His eyes widened. "Holy Lord of the Flare! What happened to hi-"  
  
Warren seized the dragon by the shoulders. "You will fix everything. You will not harm a hair on his body. And if I come back and see that you have, I'll give you to the Ourachs myself. I swear I will." He released Lithshali and stalked out of the door, closing it behind him.  
  
Lithshali turned, looking Xelloss over like a cornered rabbit eyes a wolf. Xelloss took the time to do the same. Lithshali was a small dragon, his hair mottled gray and black, his eyes a rich gold. He wore white robes draped with sashes of black silk. Xelloss' mental index of facts informed him that they were traditional robes for a battlefield attendant, the healer equivalent of a field surgeon. The black meant that his life had been touched by death in a very personal way. He carried himself like a sparrow - very timid and quick to fly. And he seemed intensely self-aware of his diminuitive size.  
  
"It's okay. You can hurt me a lot more than I can hurt you." Xelloss smiled, his head a little bewildered by the strangeness of it all. He'd forgotten that most dragons were naturally afraid of him. Eight years of living with Firia in the middle of nowhere had made him forget a lot of things that hadn't been wiped from his mind.  
  
The dragon's expression told Xelloss that Lithshali disagreed entirely.  
  
"Really. Do I look very threatening?" Xelloss closed his eyes, sighing. This was ridiculous. He didn't want to deal with this. He felt so tired.  
  
"Don't sleep." Xelloss felt a hand press lightly on his arm. "You can't sleep, Beast Priest. Not yet. There we are. Keep your eyes open now." Lithshali smiled. "I know that's a little strange for you."  
  
Xelloss blinked. Lithshali had shaken off his timidness rather fast. "I keep my eyes open a lot more often, these days." He paused. "Please call me Xelloss."  
  
"Right." Lithshali looked over his shoulder, then whispered into Xelloss' ear: "Look, I had nothing to do with Devil's Nest. We're all escapees too." He then straightened up and squinted at Xelloss, running a finger down his wrist. He frowned. "Did Warren numb you?"  
  
"Yes." _Escapees from Devil's Nest? **What**?_  
  
Lithshali gulped. "I'm going to have to remove that numbing spell, Beas-er...Xelloss. It's of mazoku origin, and might conflict very badly with my healing spells." His eyes widened. "Healing spells on a mazoku!?"  
  
"I'm not a mazoku." Xelloss almost felt his head hurt through Warren's numbing magic.  
  
"Well. **Shit**." Lithshali cursed with an ease that Xelloss would never have credited him with.  
  
The ex-mazoku sighed. "I rather like that numbing spell, Lithshali."  
  
"It's okay. I know several of my own." Lithshali prepared himself for magical workings. He looked down at Xelloss before proceeding. "Xelloss?"  
  
"Yes?" Xelloss was rather taken aback at the sound of his own voice. It sounded far too weary.  
  
"I know what it's like to escape death and lose your life in the process. From one survivor to another, I promise I'll help you live."  
  
Xelloss was speechless for a moment. Lithshali's words were very touching, and somehow he knew they were the absolute truth. "Thank you."  
  
"Now shh! I have to concentrate, and you must stay perfectly still."  
  
Xelloss bemusedly obeyed his orders, wondering how much more confused he would be when he finally reached Wolf Pack Island.   
  


* * *  
  



	4. Memoir Chapter 3

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Memoir - 3  
  
* * *

  
  
Lithshali attended to Xelloss' injuries, chattering away. Xelloss almost chuckled at the dragon's contradictory nature. He needed silence to concentrate, but he talked all the way through the process. "I'm sure this won't surprise you in the least," the dragon went on, "but I did not expect to see you. Yes, no surprise there, I can see it in your eyes. Which are as human as the rest of you. I didn't realize that at first, but I should have seen it much earlier. I mean, a dragon can just sense a mazoku like _that_, you know? Sometimes even when he can't see it there. But, well...I never thought I'd ever see _Xelloss_ in my life. At least, I'd hoped I wouldn't. And then I do. And, well...you being alive is enough at the outset, but _human_? If I didn't possess the draconic ability to sense essences, I'd have disbelieved you. Though, on retrospect, I should have been able to tell when I touched you. Now I feel a little slow for not guessing on my own.  
  
"In normal cases it might be strange that you would end up human, never mind thinking of how. But anything that the Ourachs touch often comes away...twisted. And we all knew the Ourachs had you, Xelloss. Everyone knew that Devil's Nest had taken you along with its other victims. And that was back before...we knew...what the Ourachs really were..."  
  
Lithshali was quiet for a minute before he continued. Xelloss listened with rapt attention. Even without ordering him to stay still and silent, Xelloss' physician had made his patient a captive audience. The human had never heard an account from anyone but Firia of what had happened during his imprisonment. And Xelloss had never, ever, in all of his life, been able to hear a dragon talk about him honestly. Not even from Firia.  
  
"...That was back when we counted the Ourachs as close allies. A few of the Hieriphists had their doubts, but overall, we all trusted them. They were our brothers, after all! And even though Devil's Nest was a controversial topic amongst the populace, everyone agreed that your capture and incarceration were the greatest achievements in the last century. But..."  
  
"It's just..."  
  
"...Well, interrogation is understandable for any prisoner of war. But in all of the non-Ourach tribes, we were whispering heated disagreements. Torture...well, you were a mazoku, and it had been done by us before. And Xelloss, you've done very evil things. But if you were to be punished for crimes against the dragon race, then, well...we didn't think it was very appropriate for the Ourachs to hide you away like you were their trophy. Justice is one thing...cruelty is another. Word got around about exactly what they were doing to you."  
  
Lithshali's face became unreadable. "Some said you deserved it."  
  
"And, well," the dragon went on past the anger boiling up inside of Xelloss, "a lot of dragons disagreed. If they didn't say anything, you knew it was because they didn't want to be caught sympathizing with...with _you_. I know. I was one of the quiet ones. But there were more dragons that voiced their dissent than you would think. Because...it just wasn't right. Even the righteous, the dragons who said what the Ourachs did was no more than what you would do to one of us, admitted that they couldn't have done that to you. Nobody could have. _Nobody_." Lithshali was holding back tears. "By the time you escaped, there were a lot of us who would have just let you go if it were our decision. Enough was enough. Nobody dared say that they were glad you finally got out. But a lot of us thought it."  
  
Xelloss couldn't say anything.  
  
"I...oh, dear. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you...here's a handkerchief. Take it. I'm finished." Lithshali pulled a chair away from a nearby desk and slumped into it. He sighed wearily. "It makes me even sadder to look back on those days. It's so hard to think of a time that we even trusted the Ourachs. And your past tribulations actually aren't unlike the current ones of many dragons. Ceipheed's tears. I'm so sorry. I feel so horrible about what my race did to you, what my brothers claimed was justice. I can't imagine what the memories do to you, Xelloss."  
  
Xelloss forced words to emerge from his throat. "I...can't either."  
  
Lithshali sighed. "At least you have Warren now."  
  
_WHA_- Xelloss' mental statement of bewilderment was cut off as the door opened.  
  
Ahh. Warren was finally back. He was carrying a tray with the tea set and Xelloss' bread resting on it. To Xelloss' relief, he appeared to be much calmer. Warren set the tray onto the nightstand, shooed Lithshali from his chair, and sat down. His eyes never once strayed from Xelloss. The human realized from Lithshali's nervous posture that it wasn't so much himself under inspection as it was the dragon's healing expertise.  
  
After a long time, Warren took his eyes off of Xelloss and turned his attentions to the tray. Xelloss saw Lithshali's shoulders slump with relief. No comments obviously meant no trouble. He blinked as Warren shoved the plate of bread and cheese into his lap.  
  
"I don't want you getting into any damn fainting spells. Eat." Warren set his teacup aside and put Xelloss' on the corner of the nightstand nearest the bed. He then poured another cup and handed it to Lithshali, who accepted it very hesitantly. "It's not going to bite, you damned twit. Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I'm not going to pour you a cup of tea if you're around when the pot's full." Warren took a very menacing sip of his brew. "That would be rude."  
  
Xelloss devoted himself to eating his bread. His hunger had by no means decreased after the dragon's flawless healing. Even though his stomach betrayed nothing, he could tell by the drained feeling in his body that he was far from full. He paused between bites. What the...his bread was never this bland. And the cheese had lost all of its bite. He took a sip of his tea, tasting only water. "Lithshali?"  
  
Lithshali started, almost spilling his cup of tea. "Yes, Xelloss?" He didn't see Warren scowl at the dragon's use of Xelloss' name without his former title.  
  
"Could you please remove that numbing spell? It was very good at what it did, but I don't think I need it now." Xelloss inwardly sighed as Warren glared at the dragon. He didn't want to cause any trouble, but the spell could do more harm than simply numbing his tastebuds. If he somehow got hurt while under the charm, he wouldn't know it.  
  
Lithshali turned pale and set his tea down, rushing to Xelloss' side. "I'm sorry, Xelloss! I was so worried about your injuries that I didn't think about undoing what little charms I'd put on you." He touched Xelloss' arm, breaking the numbness.  
  
Xelloss stretched as feeling flooded back to him. Now _that_ was a welcome relief. He resumed eating, now able to enjoy the taste of his food. When the room became silent for too long, he looked up. Warren was staring at him. He had been watching Xelloss all this time, his face a strange mixture of longing and regret.  
  
_At least I have Warren now, huh?_ They had to have known each other before Xelloss' capture. But Xelloss couldn't remember anything from that period, except maybe basic power structures and magical trivia. He wished that he could have one snippet, one little hint as to who Warren was.  
  
Xelloss finished off his bread and sipped his tea. He hadn't paid attention to its flavor in the kitchen - he'd been too preoccupied with worry. But now that he could taste things properly, Xelloss became even more bewildered. How-  
  
Lithshali flew into a fit of coughs. He barely managed to set his cup down without spilling what was left of its contents.  
  
Warren raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"  
  
The dragon composed himself, his voice weak as he caught his breath. "I'm sorry. It's...a little strong."  
  
The mazoku shrugged, sipping from his cup. "It's not _my_ fault you have bad taste."  
  
Xelloss sniffed the tea, then took another sip. _Wow._ "What gave you the idea to put ten cloves into it?"  
  
Warren's face had been almost kind at some points after he'd walked into the room. He'd showed concern for Xelloss, exhibiting a sort of guarded closeness to him. But what facial evidence there had been of such feelings turned into stretched, rigid bitterness. "...It's my favorite tea, Xelloss." The words were angry, their delivery almost an attack. He waved his hand at Lithshali in a motion that Xelloss' mental magical index told him was associated with deafening spells.  
  
Warren leaned over, filling Xelloss' field of vision entirely. His voice was an angry whisper, almost shaking with pain. "You taught me how to make it one day. I had never brewed tea before. You said, 'A good cup of tea is worth more than all the sorrows in the world,' and I was very, very sorrowful that day. You made it just for me, my special blend. It was our favorite. We always drank it together. Just you and me." Xelloss watched tears creep from Warren's eyes, the mazoku shaking with...anger? Pain? Regret? "We always took turns making it. The last time we had tea together, you took care of it. So I did it today." He quickly turned away from Xelloss, his shoulders quaking. "Why the fuck did I even bother to keep a pact that you've long forgotten?"  
  
_Oh shit. We were friends. Very good friends._  
  
"It probably didn't matter back then either, but at least you had the decency to pretend it did." Warren stood up, waving his hand at Lithshali first to break the deafening spell and then to send him away. The dragon vanished. "We're leaving, Xelloss. Get up." Warren's face lacked any of the emotions that Xelloss had witnessed overtaking him. Now there was only the aloof superiority that he had first walked into the human's life with. A little of the sadism began to permeate the waters, making Warren stand a little straighter. "Move it, Xelloss! You've got much more ahead of you today. This is no time to be lazy."  
  
Xelloss sat up slowly, eyeing Warren very suspiciously. He seemed to be calculating something. After a few moments, he stood up, set the stray dishes onto the tray, and walked to the kitchen. Warren followed him, frowning. "And just what are you doing?"  
  
"Putting the dishes away, of course." Xelloss rinsed the dishes before drying them and putting them and the tray where they belonged. "I'm not leaving them out dirty. We get ants here, you know." He walked back to the bedroom before Warren could form any arguments around his bewilderment.  
  
Xelloss grabbed a small pack and began neatly placing clothes into it. Warren scowled. "What the hell do you think I meant when I said we were leaving **now**?"  
  
The human snapped the catch on the pack. "What are you going to do, kill me? Wouldn't that be a bit of a waste after all the trouble you went through to get me healed?" He grabbed a small brown bag with a long strap. It was almost identical to his old satchel, which had gotten confiscated very early on during his tenure at Devil's Nest. The contents were a little different[Xelloss could barely recall that whatever was in the old bag had been irreplacable], but the meaning was the same. In it were the few silly things that he was least likely to ever want to part with[photos, a lock of blond hair, a dried up four-leaf clover...], plus a book and a ledger. "I get the feeling that I'm not coming back for a long time, Warren. I just want to pack and lock up the place. I'm stupid and weak and human now, so I do things like this occasionally. Indulge me." He put the backpack on, then slid the strap of his satchel over his shoulder. His mace was propped next to the nightstand. He slid that into the holster for it on the back of his belt.  
  
"Oh, yes. You're prepared for anything." Warren followed Xelloss as he walked through the house, blowing out lamps and shutting windows. He finally went outside, locked the door, and left the key under a nearby planter in case Firia came back while he was gone.  
  
"That's quite precautious. Your miles-away neighbors and any roving bandits are sure to be deterred." Warren folded his arms. "Is that all? Do you want to feed your goldfish before we leave?"  
  
"You mean I kept goldfish back when I was a mazoku? Gee, I forgot that. Hope they didn't starve," Xelloss sniped back.  
  
Warren calmly punched him in the face. He teleported them away before Xelloss even hit the ground.  
  
* * *  
  
Xelloss came to and opened his eyes. He was lying face-deep in slate blue carpet. Warren hauled him up before he could say 'MRMPH'.  
  
"Welcome to Wolk Pack Island." The mazoku pushed Xelloss backwards. Off-balance from the teleport, the human stumbled and sat abruptly on the small bed behind him. He examined his surroundings as Warren looked off into the distance. They were in a modestly-sized room decorated in soothing light blues and grays. There was a door to his left [probably locked], a black jacket and a red scarf hanging from a hook on the back. Behind him a window let in a cool, salty breeze.  
  
Xelloss' eyes wandered back to his host, who was still standing in what appeared to be a trance. He cleared his throat. "If it's not too much _trouble_ on your part, could I please see my son?"  
  
Warren's eyes flicked to him for a moment, then unfocused again. "SHH!"  
  
Xelloss shook his head and slumped. He considered the prospects of nagging Warren. Annoying the mazoku would certainly lift the human's mood. But Xelloss really didn't want to go through the hassle of bodily harm until he stayed healthy for at least a few hours in a row. He mused on the prospects of that happening while being in Warren's presence for an extended amount of time. Perhaps he should just climb out of the window while Warren was still tranced.  
  
The mazoku finally blinked, then shook his head a little. "Damn hag..." he muttered under his breath. He turned to Xelloss. "Can you keep that kid from breaking anything in here?" He looked impatient [_imagine that..._] and tapped his foot until his guest answered.  
  
Xelloss scowled. "You act like he's a pet that I haven't bothered to train."  
  
"Better than I could have phrased it. Thank you, Xelloss." Warren smirked and snapped his fingers. Valteria fell onto the bed as the mazoku unlocked the door with a key and exited. "Don't touch anything or I'll break your arms." The door closed behind him, a subtle click indicating that Warren had locked it back.  
  
Valteria blinked, looking at his surroundings in a daze. "...Dad? What hap-" He was cut off as Xelloss hugged him close.  
  
Xelloss' heartbeat thundered in his ears as he held his son. He'd been so afraid that Valteria wouldn't come back to him whole. "Valteria, do you feel alright? Did he hurt you?" He swallowed, trying to calm his breathing.  
  
"I'm fine, Dad. Where was I?" Valteria pushed away. "Stop squeezing me so hard. You act like I was gone for hours or something."  
  
"Humor your senile father." Xelloss held Valteria for a few more moments until he could finally breathe normally again. Then he released his son. "Warren kept you in a pocket dimension while we talked for a while. Then he brought us here."  
  
Valteria frowned, looking around the room. "I was suddenly in this big white space, floating. It was only a few moments until I was here. You must not have talked for _that_ long."  
  
"Well, that pocket dimension probably had skewed directional and temporal axes, so you wouldn't feel the chronological effects of reality," Xelloss said, lapsing into technical language.  
  
"Right, Dad. That sounds simple enough." Valteria kept examining the room. "Who was that guy? Why did he bring us here? Where are we?" His gaze wandered to his father with the last question. "Hey, your hand's back to normal!"  
  
Xelloss was quiet for a few moments, trying to figure out how to tell Valteria what was going on. "We're on Wolf Pack Island, the mazoku base of my former boss. Her name is Zelas. Warren works for her, and I believe he was a friend of mine from the days before I was your father."  
  
"Did he do bad things like you used to?"  
  
"Oh, I'm sure of that. We probably did them together." He looked down at Valteria. "Now Terry, do you remember what Mom and I told you happens when you do bad things all your life?"  
  
"L-sama turns you into something that behaves. Then she makes you marry someone so you can't get away with anything ever again."  
  
"Ye-" Xelloss paused. "Where did that second one come from?"  
  
Valteria blinked innocently "Observation."  
  
"Well, don't you ever let your mother hear it." Xelloss stood up, feeling a little ansty. He needed to walk around. "Terry, it's important for you to understand what's going on here. We're guests of the Mazoku now, and I don't even know why. Mazoku feed off of bad emotions and they like to hurt people. They're far beyond anything that we can fight. I know they won't kill us. But you need to be on your best behavior. Don't annoy them or give them a reason to punish you. They won't treat you kindly just because you're a kid." Xelloss kneeled in front of Valteria, grasping him gently by the shoulders. "Do you understand, Terry? They really only want something from me. You have to be on your best behavior, and stick by me no matter what."  
  
Terry nodded, his face beginning to betray the fear growing inside him. "Is Mom going to be okay? What if she comes home before we get back?"  
  
Xelloss swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn't even know if they _would_ get back. "I'm sure we'll be able to send a sign that we're okay." He looked down, gaze traveling along the carpet.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
Xelloss looked up. "Yes, Valteria?"  
  
"You're not a very good liar today."  
  
The father sighed, then dropped his hands from Valteria's shoulders.  
  
Valteria inwardly berated himself. Mom had always told him that he was supposed to keep his Dad out of trouble. Now they were both in peril AND depressed. He sat there for a few moments, wondering what to do. Then he cocked his head. "Dad? You never said what happened to your hand."  
  
"Oh!" Xelloss rose, the air of sadness dissapating. "Warren healed it."  
  
Confusion washed over Valteria's face. "I thought you said once that mazoku can't do that."  
  
"Well, he brought a dragon in to do it."  
  
"A **dragon**? But you said mazoku usually hated dragons!" Valteria got up from the bed, walking across the room to where his father was pacing. His gaze was caught by a desk whose surface was decorated with knicknacks, which he examined while waiting for his father's answer.  
  
"They do. Warren was certainly no exception." Xelloss ceased his pacing and stood next to Valteria. "Things are just getting more and more confu- Terry, don't touch any of that."  
  
Terry clasped his hands behind his back, then resumed his scrutiny of the desk. "Oh, come on. Do you really think he'll break our arms?"  
  
Xelloss rubbed his arm, wincing in memory of Warren's brutality at the breakfast table. "I'm certain of it."  
  
"Well, I won't tou- hey, look at this!" Valteria pointed at a framed picture on the desk. He backed up a little when he realized how close his finger was to it.  
  
Xelloss bent down to see what had grabbed Valteria's attention. As he examined the picture, his eyes widened. It was of him and Warren, having drinks on a balcony. It was nighttime and the lights of a city [_Atlas city, it's the only one that huge_] stretched away in the background. Warren looked so much different, lighthearted and cheerful. He was laughing as Xelloss grinned with raised eyebrows.  
  
Xelloss grabbed the picture, squinting at it. "Photographs were only invented half a century ago. About fifteen years ago, in Atlas City, it started to be a common practice to station cameramen in restaurants. They'd take your picture and then let you buy the photograph. Fifteen years ago...this might have been before I ever met your mother, Terry." He blinked. "Or even after I met her."  
  
"Dad, you're touching it!" Valteria grabbed his wrist. "He'll break your arms! You said he would!"  
  
Xelloss shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time." He set the picture down where he'd found it, then looked around the room one more time, paying more attention to the personal effects in it.  
  
"What do you mean?" Valteria let go of Xelloss' wrist. "What happened when you two talked?"  
  
Xelloss sighed. "Don't get Warren angry, Terry. Trust me."  
  
He walked to the bedstand, something there grabbing his attention. "These...Terry...these were my gloves. One of my extra pairs. I used to wear them..." The powder blue gloves were wrapped around the base of a candleabra, along with a blue band of patterned fabric. The pattern matched the trim on the cloak he had worn while in his position as Beast Priest. Two candles glittered in the candleabra, one periwinkle and one lavender. A strip of paper was tied higher up on the neck, black calligraphy running along its grainy surface. The few snippets of writing that Xelloss could see were bits of an old prayer to L-sama. It was a plea for help in finding the hopelessly lost.  
  
Xelloss felt inexpicably awful all of a sudden. "So this is Warren's room..."  
  
"Dad, look outside!" Terry pointed at the vistas beyond the window.  
  
The land outside was a tropical island paradise. Lush jungles lead to pristine beaches which reached into sparkling emerald waters. The ocean beyond stretched out as far as Xelloss' eyes could see. He watched a parakeet flap by, perfecting the scene.  
  
"Boy, that Zelas lady sure knows how to pick out a base." Valteria frowned. "I thought a mazoku hideaway would be more...dangerous. This place is really nice!"  
  
Xelloss nodded. "You could say that. But I see sharks in those waters."  
  
Valteria blanched. "You're right." He sighed. "I guess climbing out the window and making a run for it is a bad idea then, isn't it?"  
  
"I considered it, but it is _definitely_ a bad idea." Xelloss sat down on the bed. "Even if you flew us out, there'd be wards and who knows what else to stop us. All we can do is wait for Warren to come back and then see what Zelas wants from me."  
  
The ancient dragon sat down next to his dad. "I _hate_ waiting."  
  
As if answering Valteria's cue, the door latch clicked. An exceedingly calm-looking Warren walked in, shutting the door behind him.  
  
The pair watched as the mazoku checked around the room, ignoring them completely. He scrutinized the furnishings, making Xelloss slightly nervous for a moment. But Warren apparently thought that nothing had been tampered with, because he didn't break Xelloss' arms after looking at his desk.  
  
After he finished looking around, Warren walked to a mirror. His passive expression turned slightly aloof as he examined his appearance. Obviously he didn't approve of the rumpled outfit that he had worn as a disguise. He waved his hand and a sudden wind ruffled the clothing. As the fabric moved, it changed, rippling into a long black tunic over black pants. The bottom of the pants and the front of the tunic were laced with silver thread. His brown leather boots and grey gloves remained the same, but were now much cleaner. He smoothed a few seams over rather meticulously, gave himself one last glance, and then gestured over his shoulder. The jacket and scarf floated from their hook on the door and into his hand. He donned the jacket, checking to see if his sleeves were even and if the collar was straight. The jacket was short, only reaching his midriff, and its cuffs were trimmed in a silver variation of the pattern from the blue band of fabric and Xelloss' old cloak. Finally, he wrapped the long red scarf around his neck and then under the jacket, bringing the ends back around his waist and tucking them in.  
  
Warren seemed to be satisfied with his appearance now. He finally turned to Xelloss and Valteria, acknowledging their presence in the room for the first time since his return. His face still retained its eerie calm. Xelloss wondered just how much of an act that calm was. Deep under Warren's mask, he could see traces of anger.  
  
"Someone has requested your presence. Please accompany me so that I may introduce you." The delivery was polite, but the sincerity was lacking. Warren turned away from the both of them and opened the door. Xelloss and Valteria got up and walked out as the mazoku silently directed the two to preceed him. He then followed them.  
  
The door shut. The latch clicked.   
  


* * *  
  



	5. Memoir Chapter 4

****

Memoir - 4  
  
* * *

  
  
Warren watched the backs of his guests as he rolled a cigarette with the ease of constant practice. He could take them directly to his superior, yes. But he wasn't going to. He was walking there. He didn't care how quickly She wanted them to arrive. He wanted to wait. He was going to calm down, smoke a cigarette, and let Her simmer. Warren flicked the tip of the cigarette with his finger. A rosy glow and a crackle, and he could inhale.  
  
Mazoku had a natural immunity to chemical addictions. Warren had worked very hard to overcome that little obstacle. With an astral body, mind over matter meant that much more. Some might think it trivial, but Warren knew that it was all worth it every time he drew in the smoke. He had created a little mental collar for himself. As minutes passed it ever-so-slowly tightened around his neck, constricting his freedom, making him panic. When he breathed in the fumes, the collar went completely slack. He could do it anytime, anywhere. Just a flicker of light and a breath of air and then, relaxation. A little collar that he could control. It did wonders for taking his mind off of the collars he couldn't control.  
  
Damn that Bitch. She had no right. _She had no right._ Warren blinked as a patch of sunlight washed over him. They had walked out of the simple little house on the hill where his room was. Now a pleasant outdoor stroll waited ahead. The little stone path they were on led through shady trees and colorful gardens, wandering as if it really didn't care where it was supposed to end. Warren enjoyed the open space, the birds soaring overhead and the occasional call of some wild animal in the distance. This place was free. It was home. His home.  
  
She could never take that away from him.  
  
"Stop looking back at me and just follow the path," Warren mumbled around his cigarette. Xelloss and Valteria jumped a little. "Look around if you want. Take your time. We'll get there soon enough." He sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets and letting his mind wander as the two wards took their attention away from him. He needed this. He needed a damn break. It would be short. They would arrive at Zelas' very soon. But damned gods, he needed a fucking break.  
  
That twit in front of him was Xelloss. Warren couldn't lie to himself anymore. It wasn't just some lookalike, some fluke of nature or a Copy set up to trick him. That was Xelloss. That was really Xelloss.  
  
He was alive. And that was him.  
  
Warren hated irony even more than he hated dragons.  
  
It had been so much better once. Before Xelloss left, Warren didn't have to deal with Her. He didn't have to deal with the grief. But for years, it was nothing but Her, nobody else to talk to, nobody else worthy of listening to what he had to say. It had been extremely lonely, and it only seemed to get worse as time went on. Then, Xelloss turned up...and now everything had gone completely to shit.  
  
It wasn't fair. He shouldn't have to do this. He shouldn't have to follow Her will. Why couldn't he just retreat to the gardens, to his room, to the astral plane and just lay back and never have to listen to Her, just finally be able to curl up and grieve?  
  
This was madness. She was angry at him? How dare She chew him out, harangue him? She had NO RIGHT after all of this. She had no right to judge him at all. Didn't he deserve respite? Of all the inhabitants of the island, why was he the most deserving yet the least rewarded? It wasn't his fault She hated him.  
  
Why make him deal with Xelloss? It only rubbed in his face what he had lost.  
  
Xelloss and Valteria stopped. The path ended at a pair of doors. They belonged to a building on the island that was out of place. It was built similarly - stone and palm and bamboo and shells and everything else made up its eclectic and sturdy frame. But the other buildings on the island were worn with time, weathered well by age and the elements. This was much newer, only years old instead of centuries. It faced a cove and rested just beyond the highest possible tideline of the adjacent waters. This was also a bit strange - the rest of the buildings were much higher, facing cliffs or thick clumps of jungle. Nothing else was built on the beach.  
  
And while Xelloss thought this was strange, what he really wanted to know was why he was just given a walking tour of an island if his presence was so urgently required that what was probably the only mazoku available for the job had been sent to go fetch him. He was not about to mention any of this, though. "So, would you like to wait around a little more, or should we enter?" His voice was drenched in sarcasm. It had been a long day, and Warren really didn't deserve his courtesy.  
  
The mazoku stepped up to him, dark and somehow looming from his lesser height. He spoke with utter, expressionless calm. "Please do not burden me with having to light another cigarette by making me shove this one into your eye." With that said, he opened the doors and waved his guests in.  
  
Xelloss and Valteria immediately looked up as they walked inside. Light streamed down from the ceiling like crystal rain. Above them was not solid wood or rock, but woven bamboo sealed with clear melted glass. Sunlight seeped through the tiny gaps and seams, peppering the floor below with drops of gold.  
  
"I like how the construction standards on this island instill everyone with a suitable sense of awe when they enter my abode." The voice was laced with chargrin, its pitch brittle and worn like old wicker. The two guests turned to face its owner, an old, thin woman who just barely came up to Warren's height. Her skin was bleached with age. A very pale tan was all that the ancient leather could hold anymore, even in a climate like this. Her hair was probably the light grey of her eyebrows, but an ornate headpiece that resembled a giant crustacean hid any evidence that could prove such an assumption. Time had not been kind to her face. The whites of her eyes were tinged red, and one of the orbs wandered lazily away from focus. Her fingers were just as withered as her cheeks, and the only thing that seemed to give her any stability was an ivory-white piece of armor that covered her shoulders and swept down her chest in a sharp V. Long pale grey fabric hung from it, draping around the rest of her body and pooling at her feet.  
  
Xelloss was struck with confusion. Surely this must be Zelas, as she was obviously Warren's mistress and the ruler of this island. But...no...it just wasn't right. She had an inner strength, but she was far too...too bitter? He couldn't place it. Every time he attempted to dredge Zelas up from his mind, the sands of memory slid through his fingers and cascaded into oblivion.  
  
He looked up, realizing that the woman was now standing before him. "You are obviously in deep thought." Her smirk faded into a look of understanding. "You're very confused. You think I'm Zelas, don't you?" Before Xelloss could formulate a reply to that, an indescribable sound behind him made him turn.  
  
Warren stood back from the group, almost as if he were keeping himself at a safe distance from them. His stance brought to mind a feral cat on guard and about to spit. There was something on his face that Xelloss would never be able to decipher - was it outrage, or was it grief? Fury or pain? "I cannot stand to stay in this place for one second longer, _Lady_ Dolphin." His voice was stretched so tightly that Xelloss almost expected it to fray.  
  
The woman nodded to Warren. "That's good. I need you to perform a task for me anyways. Take the child with you while Xelloss and I talk." She waved to the door, dismissing the mazoku as if he was a petty servant.  
  
Xelloss' eyes widened and Warren's fangs flashed. "NOW WAIT JUST A MINUTE!" The two of them paused for a moment and blinked, realizing they had shouted in unision.  
  
Dolphin chuckled, shaking her head. "Now-now, Warren. You won't dare hurt the child, will you? I told you exactly how I would punish you if you pulled any more of your stunts with these two. And you know I meant it." Her voice was lilting and playful, but the hard edge under it told Xelloss all he needed to know about Valteria's safety with Warren.  
  
The mazoku stood absolutely still, staring at Dolphin with an expression of utter hatred. He finally whirled around, grabbed Valteria by the wrist, and led him straight outside without another look at anything in the room. The doors slammed.  
  
Dust motes shook free from the beams above with the impact. They floated through the air, gliding along the rays of golden light and turning the room into an almost surreal vision. As they settled, Dolphin nodded at her guest. "Come along and have a seat, Xelloss. We have much to talk about."  
  
* * *  
  
Warren flung himself against the outside wall of the building, leaning back against the uneven grains of bamboo and palm. He clawed into the wood, his shoulders drawing up so tightly that Valteria's eyes widened at the sight. Warren only sunk his fingers further into the wall, scraping the tips until his gloves frayed. His eyes were wide and unblinking, his face twitching around them. Finally, just when Valteria was ready to inch away, the mazoku closed his eyes and sank back against the wall, his arms going slack.  
  
He slowly brought his hand to his inner jacket pocket, tugged out a few papers and other essentials, and then proceeded to frantically roll a cigarette. His fingers weren't following orders anymore. They fell out of rank and file, slipping over paper and catching in creases. He cursed under his breath, which was quick and rough and relentless. Finally the task was done and he brought the little paper stick to his lips. Fire. Breath. Slack?  
  
The collars were so tight! Dolphin's gnarled fingers tugged at his leash, bringing the choke-chains to bear. Everyone's fingers were around his neck, everyone had a rope there, a few links, a strap of leather. He couldn't breathe. By gods, he needed to breathe! Fire stroked his throat, burning it open. Air rushed through, blessed damned smoke-filled poisonous joyful air. It was enough to free his fingers, setting them to their task again. Rolling again, rolling through his fingers, tucking, rolling, fuck it slipped, roll, roll...lick...  
  
"Hold this," he said with barely half a breath, handing Valteria the cigarette as his fingers leapt to make another. The boy took it silently, holding out his hand in case Warren wanted it back soon. Warren deposited the second cigarette instead, forcing his hands to start on another as the stick in his mouth grew dangerously short. He dragged the air in again, breathing like his life depended on how much poison he could swallow. The reins gave him a little slack. Just a little. The wick came to its end and Warren spat it out. Valteria handed him one of the finished cigarettes. Warren nodded numbly, his head bobbing with the frantic rhythm of his breath. A spark and a gasp and he had rolled the last cigarette. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't control his fingers. Valteria took the paper stick before Warren could drop it.  
  
Warren was practically having a panic attack in front of Valteria. This new mazoku scared the dragon a lot less than the first Warren: the cool and collected happy brute. Warren just looked sick now, sick and pathetic. Valteria had never met a mazoku before this day, but living with his father had taught him how to take care of adults at an early age. Warren's condition brought forth an automatic reaction in the boy. He was used to being the calm one whenever everyone else panicked. True, it made his mother very frustrated when he did things like patiently talk her down from a fit. But his father said that it was a very useful talent. Thus, Valteria didn't know this island, and he didn't know mazoku, but he knew distress. So when Warren burned through the next cigarette and barely showed any improvement for it, Valteria quietly handed him another and waited.  
  
Warren's vision was blurring. Oh gods. Demon-fucking-gods. Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin Dolphin she wasn't Zelas, _she wasn't Zelas_, oh gods, oh gods, dead fucking gods, _Shubranigdo_ fucking MAGNUS. Oh no. Oh no. Not the leash. _Not the leash_. Dolphin would you **put down the leash**- choking, choking, cho  
  
Valteria gave Warren the last cigarette and watched as the mazoku barely managed to light it this time.  
  
BURNING yes, burning, it's okay, leash burning, oh gods yes, Shubranigdo thank you, demons fucking gods fucking demons please more fire, oh gods, oh...burning away. Fire flaking away from his neck. Freeing his neck. Freeing his neck. No chains. Just fire. Just fire.  
  
Warren slid to the ground. He slumped over and sat on the grass, puffing smoke in and out. Draping his arms over his knees, the mazoku leaned back and smiled just a little as the wick in his mouth happily burned. He sighed. His voice was weak and rusty, but it was also a tiny bit pleased. "Have a seat, Valteria. I like you."  
  
The boy sat down next to him, looking out at the sky. Night was creeping up, the setting sun a twin for the fire in Warren's mouth.  
  
Warren exhaled a little more poison, bled out a little more pain. Everything was fine. Yes. He settled himself in to watch the stars come out. "Boy, you know, you're O.K."  
  
Valteria nodded, his eyes on the sky and his legs ready to run the second Warren changed his mind.  
  
* * *  
  
Xelloss let himself be herded into a large wicker chair by Dolphin; at least, he told himself that he was letting her herd him. He didn't want to think about what she would do to him if he protested. If she knew ways to keep _Warren_ in line, surely she could devise a few measures against Xelloss. He tried to settle himself, keep his legs down flat and comfortable, his hands on the armrests, still and trusting. But his body didn't want to comply. It was as nervous as he was, and demonstrated this through a tapping foot or drumming fingers. Xelloss cursed himself silently, then realized that his outward appearance didn't matter a whit. Dolphin could read his emotions like a child's picture book.  
  
The lady smiled her withered, brittle smirk and sat down across from him in an identical chair. Between them was a simple table - lashed stalks of bamboo supported a circular slab of wavy glass. Seashells and pebbles floated inside. A tea service appeared on the table suddenly, making Xelloss blink with surprise.  
  
At Dolphin's gesture, the pot poured hot coffee into two cups. She took her own cup, sipping from it. "Being in Warren's presence tends to give me a great desire for a strong drink," her withered voice creaked. "I thought you might have a similar need."  
  
Xelloss numbly took his cup and sipped it, forcing himself not to cough. He hated black coffee. Firia could drink it like a horse for some reason, but all it did was scorch his tongue and light a fire under his brain. Then again, perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing, considering his current mental state.  
  
Across from him, the mazoku ruler chuckled. "If you don't like it, don't drink it."  
  
Xelloss set his cup down and found himself wishing for something else to hold or drink. Anything to keep him from feeling so self-conscious and exposed. Now all he could think about was Dolphin's gaze, pinning him to his chair like a prize butterfly.  
  
Dolphin's line of sight wandered from Xelloss' neck down to his ankles, focusing on things that weren't visible to human eyes. She nodded to herself and sipped her coffee. "I see Devil's Nest has left its scars on you, Xelloss." She smiled as the human's head jerked up, panic seizing his face. "And I see that the scars are more than just physical." She cocked her head sideways, almost leering at him. "Would you like to talk about them?"  
  
"No!" Xelloss spat without hesitation. He drew back into his chair, his body automatically moving as far away from Dolphin as it could.  
  
A dry chuckle rasped from Dolphin's wrinkled neck. "Fair enough. You won't talk about them, and you've the right. But _I'll_ talk about your scars, Xelloss." One foggy grey eye locked with his, the other tilting to gaze over his shoulder. Xelloss shuddered. "After all, between the two of us, only I know who _really_ gave them to you."  
  
* * *   
  
He looked very human.  
  
Firia forced herself to breathe as the room's new occupant shut the door.  
  
The man was tall, with long fingers and longer hair. The straight, shiny, almost oily black mane reached down to his ankles, except for his wispy bangs, which drifted a ways past his shoulders. His skin was light, but not pale. He wore a coat, as long as his hair, made of dark red silk and trimmed in black. He was absolutely, fastidiously clean. And he held himself as if he owned this room and everything inside of it.  
  
He looked so much like a man. So very much like a human being. Even the shadows in his gray-blue eyes could be explained by the simple lack of light in the room. Firia wished so much that she could believe her eyes and only her eyes for the rest of her life. They told her something she wanted to believe, whereas her draconic senses were telling her the truth.  
  
A dragon would have to be more than blind not to sense a mazoku that powerful. They would have to be dead as well.  
  
Firia felt even more naked and absolutely helpless. She could only thank whichever gods could listen in such a place that the mazoku's attentions were on the Ourachs and not herself.  
  
Avril and her companions bowed deeply before the mazoku. The dragoness smiled, purring as she spoke. "Master, we have a new toy for you."  
  
The mazoku's gaze flicked over to Firia. The Fwin's heart jumped in her chest and she looked away. He chuckled. "She looks tense." His eyes flicked back to Avril. "Is that your fault?"  
  
Avril's grin widened. "Of course." She rose as the mazoku gestured for her to stand. He waved his hand, dismissing the other Ourachs. Avril waited for the door to close behind them, then dropped her rigid stance of attention for a more relaxed, languid pose. "I've never seen a Fire Fwin before, Master. Do they all look like her?"  
  
'Master' smiled, an expression that wasn't sinister so much as subtlely possessive. "Not all of them are as beautiful, but yes, she does have the normal attributes." He watched as Avril sauntered up next to Firia and stroked one of her long ears with a fingernail.  
  
"Ahh. I was wondering about these since they seem so similar to my own." Avril gestured to her ears, which were just as long as Firia's but forked halfway up, resulting in two narrow tips. The blue catseye bead in her ear hung from a gold hoop that pierced both tips. The other guards had the same piercing and their ears were similarly pronged. Firia assumed with that information that it was an Ourach attribute. She made these calculations and observations in the back of her head, though. Her present thoughts were mostly focused on the fact that 'Master' was walking closer, provoking her fear to rise to new levels.  
  
"This dragon's tribe was the only one besides yours to have long ears. The attribute has long been equivilated with rulership and royalty because of the actions of both tribes."  
  
Avril's eyes gleamed. "The poor Ancients." She stroked Firia's hair. "It's interesting that we both come from the blood of tyrants. Such a shame that the twain didn't meet. I would have loved to see an alliance between us." She smirked. "Or at least a war."  
  
"All's the pity, dear Avril. You're lucky to see a Phoesid at all. Even I had been certain that the race was extinct." His eyes swept over Firia, sending chills through her skin. "She's very afraid."  
  
"Of course, my Master. What Fwin wouldn't fear your presence?" She twined her hands around his arm, leaning against him. Her eyes were adoring, her body so relaxed that, should he fancy it, 'Master' could break her neck before she'd ever have a chance of reacting. Barring her restraints, Firia felt that it would be proper to leave the room. The dragon was exhuding desire, and 'Master' gave no visible sign that she should stop.  
  
'Master' chuckled, stroking Avril's wispy lavender mane. "I know you've helped her fear along quite a bit. What did you do?" He looked down at Avril, his expression pure amusement.  
  
Avril shrugged. "I pretended that we were picking one of the Pit pets. I was going to scare the wits out of all of them, then drag her out as a finale. But do you know what she did?" The Ourach looked up at her Master.  
  
The mazoku stroked Firia's cheek with a gloved hand. The Fwin almost fainted at the touch. He smiled. "What did you do?"  
  
Oh, gods. He wanted her to answer. Firia closed her eyes, trying to imagine that the mazoku wasn't there. But the absence of visuals only meant that her draconic senses were more pronounced. Now she was only more aware of what was really beckoning to her for a reply. "I-" Firia choked on terror. She opened her eyes again, partially blinding her astral senses. "I volunteered to come."  
  
The mazoku raised an eyebrow. "How very generous." He looked down at Avril. "Who was the lucky Amizmer she gave herself up for?"  
  
Avril shrugged. "They have _names_? It was one of the whining little brats you so enjoy keeping in that place."  
  
"They come in handy." The mazoku's gaze pierced through Firia's, freezing her thoughts and her muscles. "And yes, most dragons have names. As do you." His look was meaningful, and Firia could not disobey the command in it.  
  
"My name is Firia." Her voice was calm. While under the mazoku's stare she lacked the strengh to saturate it with the panic in her heart.  
  
'Master' nodded. "And your surname?" The voice was commanding, his eyes calm and expectant.  
  
"Ul Copt." Her panic was rising. He was handling her far too calmly. The treatment drove more fear into her than Avril's disrespect and brutality. Her breath began to quicken. 'Master' laid a hand against her breastbone.  
  
"Shh." He smiled, his touch sending an alien wave of calm into her. "There we are. You shouldn't be afraid. I'm not here to hurt you." He turned his attention to Avril, his hand gently rubbing Firia's chest. "Avril? Your presence here has been greatly appreciated."  
  
The Ourach withdrew, bowing to her Master. "It has been a pleasure to attend."  
  
"You sound a bit regretful." The mazoku smiled. "Go attend to the errant Hierephist in the Pit. You can entertain yourself with him afterwards. Take your time. I won't require your services here for quite a while."  
  
Avril's eyes sparkled with sadistic joy. "Thank you, my Master." She walked away, almost prancing with glee. She turned before leaving. "Have fun with your new toy, Master." The door shut behind her. The sound was heavy and rung with finality.  
  
The mazoku looked down at Firia, smiling. His hand lay still on her chest. "Remember to breathe, Firia."  
  
Firia nodded dazedly, her mind reeling. The Ourachs were under the command of a mazoku? Avril had just been playing - her role in this hadn't happened by chance. This mazoku had desired her presence all along. What did he want with her? He must know that she had staged a jailbreak...  
  
Her heart almost stopped. **What if he knew about Xelloss**?  
  
"Shhh." The Mazoku touched a finger to her lips. "Don't be afraid. I can hear your desperation. It's shouting at me. Breathe. Relax. Ah, there we are. Good. I'm only here to talk with you." He withdrew his hand when Firia's breathing slowed to a calm pace, then sat on the side of the velvet couch. 'Master' smiled. "I know the Ul Copt line well. Were you a priestess just as your distant foremothers were?"  
  
Firia nodded.   
  
"You must have been a fine priestess, then. It's relieving to know that such a rich bloodline still flows. I have a penchant for the geneaology of dragon lines. You might say that tracking the flow of traits and studying the delicate weave of families is a hobby of mine."  
  
He traced the lines on Firia's palm as he said this. His voice betrayed no malicious intent or dark agenda - if Firia wasn't certain that the 'man' was a mazoku, she'd have no misgivings about him. His familiar yet polite manners brought to mind a family doctor or a trusted teacher.  
  
"Ah, Firia. Forgive my rudeness." The mazoku continued to trace the creases in Firia's palm as he bowed his head apologetically. "I have asked your name but given you nothing in return." The gleam from the corner of his eye transfixed the dragon for a moment, drawing her honesty forward and beckoning for it to speak.  
  
"I...already know your name." Firia willed her mind to silence its twittering. She didn't want to hear the truth. She didn't want to think of this mazoku as what he really was. But the truth was cruel and demanded her attentions. Who else could it be? None of his kind could give off that dark of an aura and not be a Mazoku Lord. Even Xelloss wouldn't have come near that level of power years ago. And of the three Mazoku Lords still alive, which one was male? "You are Dynast Grausherra." There. She'd said it.  
  
The mazoku smiled, leaning towards Firia until their noses almost touched. "Very good, Firia. But you may call me Grausherra."  
  
* * *  
  
"What the HELL are you saying?! The Dynast? What was _he_ doing in Devil's Nest?!" Xelloss climbed to his knees, careful to avoid the shards of glass strewn around him. They were all that remained of the tabletop after his reaction to Dolphin's words.  
  
Dolphin sipped her coffee, ignoring the broken teapot bleeding at her feet. Knowing how Xelloss felt about his past torture, she'd expected something like this. "What do you think? He was running it, of course. He still is."   
  


* * *  
  



	6. Memoir Chapter 5

Memoir - 5  
  
* * *

  
  
Xelloss had no time to question Dolphin's disturbing revelation; Warren appeared directly after she spoke. He gave a cursory glance to the broken china and glass, yanked Xelloss to his feet, and shoved the human back into his chair. He didn't look at Xelloss once during this whole manuever. The servant then cast his gaze back down at the mess on the floor, gave Dolphin a very withering look, and waved his hand. The spilled coffee and scattered glass vanished, along with the overturned bamboo frame of the former table.  
  
Warren stepped away, looking again at Dolphin, not even noticing Xelloss. "Zelas adored that table." His voice sounded just slightly ragged, as if he were trying very hard to keep it even but was simply unable to do so.  
  
Eyebrows raised, Dolphin's face was a study in the perfect calm that Warren could not attain. "I'm sorry, but I didn't knock it over." She took a sip of coffee from her still-pristine cup.  
  
His fists clenched and his teeth grinding, Warren tried to maintain a grip on his composure. He didn't feel like rolling another cigarette. Not right now. Not when the warden was sitting right in front of him in her perfect chair with her perfect cup and perfect composure. But he needed it. Gods he needed it. "Why must you entertain _your_ guests using _her_ possessions? They're not yours. She never gave them to you." He still had the slightest grip on his composure, just a fingerhold, just enough to still speak to her with civility.  
  
Dolphin's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "When I have guests in my presence, Warren, I will not have petty questions put to me by _my servants_. But if you _really_ want to discuss this later, I will be more than happy to give you a _private audience_." Xelloss saw the tiniest glint of a fang behind Dolphin's pale lips.  
  
Warren vanished without another word.  
  
Dolphin sighed, rubbing her forehead. "I give him a summon to clean up a mess and he turns it into his opportunity to interrogate me. I can't believe I ever thought that he would be an appropriate choice for bringing you to me. My apologies, Xelloss. I thought your presence might be the one thing that could possibly quiet his perpetual rage." The Queen's tired eyes implored Xelloss to forgive her.  
  
Xelloss' shock and questions about the Dynast were waylaid by apprehension. "And you're still letting him watch my _son_?" He made to get up from his chair, but an invisible force pushed him down.  
  
"He won't hurt the boy, Xelloss. The consequences facing Warren are so dire that even _he_ can't overlook him. I can make him behave." A wicked grin pulled at Dolphin's lips that excited Xelloss' fear much more than anything about Warren had. For a moment, the man wondered if he would rather be alone with Warren than face Dolphin while she was smiling. "But he is unimportant. You are not. You must be informed of the way of things, Xelloss." She swept to her feet, gesturing for him to stand. "Let us walk along the beach. While you'll probably need to sit down a few times during these revelations, a change of surroundings might be the better remedy for your nerves." She paused, shaking her head. "Your heart is skyrocketing."  
  
Xelloss followed a tsking Dolphin out of the double doors across the room from where he had entered. They opened out to gradually sloping sands. After a ways, the sands parted and became shallow waters so blue that they seemed to glow. The view overtook him for a moment before he realized that his hostess was a few paces ahead of him. Dolphin was right. The sight was certainly distracting enough to quiet his fears...for now.  
  
As she walked, Dolphin's eyes traced over the swirling latticework of clouds hanging over the moon. "You're not as out of the loop as you think, Xelloss. We - Zelas and I, and the rest of the Mazoku...the rest of the world, in fact - did not know of Grausherra's control of Devil's Nest until he _announced_ it to us. That was eight years ago. Zelas sent you out on a short scouting mission in the Kataart mountains. She had no plans for hostility at the time, but always made a point of keeping a good keen set of eyes on the movements of the Dragon Race. And not only did you have the keenest eyes of all her servants, but she wanted to reward your excellent service by giving you an extremely easy mission. So she was quite worried when you did not return within a day. I myself thought that you might have just run off for a bit after you'd finished such a simple task. But she seemed to be of the opinion that you would never sneak away like that if you knew she would get worried." Dolphin shrugged.  
  
Pausing for a moment, Xelloss realized that Zelas was right. He wouldn't have done that.  
  
"Anyways, it didn't matter what she or I thought. When a week passed with no word from you and no trace of where you'd gone, I grew suspicious. You might have been lazy and silly, Xelloss, but even I will admit that such a long absence wasn't in your character. Zelas searched for you and I made my own inquiries. Ironically, I considered asking Grausherra personally about it, but decided that he probably wouldn't care enough to tell me anything. But it really didn't matter...he delivered a message to Zelas that day telling her exactly where you were.  
  
"I remember hearing it myself as Zelas repeated the voice crystal over and over. 'My dear sweet Zelas, it seems that your beloved servant was captured by a good friend of mine while on a spying mission. Ouros has allowed me to watch over him personally. I've put him in Devil's Nest. I know from personal observation that he is quite comfortable there. The Ourachs are quite taken with him, as am I. It seems that I've been hiding things for a long time now...important things. But that won't really matter, in time. I'll be keeping Xelloss with me. Don't worry. I'll take good care of him. Oh, and please enjoy your gift.' And then Zelas saw something in the crystal that only her eyes could see. She never told me what it was, but it made her shivver every time she looked. That was all we heard, until a week passed by, with another message, and another vision for only Zelas' eyes. No demands. No threats of war. Just little updates on your 'progress' that hinted more than described. 'Xelloss had a little trouble sleeping this week.' 'He was so quiet this past week, as if he had a lot to think about.' 'He made some new friends a few days ago.' 'Xelloss keeps talking about you. He must miss you, Zelas.' Every week a new message that Zelas couldn't help but hope to hear, just to know any semblance of what was happening. And with each new message came the struggle. Should she hope that Grausherra was lying because it meant you weren't enduring everything that was implied in the bottomless pauses between his words, or hope that he was telling the truth because it meant you were alive?"  
  
Xelloss stopped walking, and wrapped his arms around himself as a shivver coiled up through his body. His body and heart were remembering things that his mind could not. He'd experienced the sensation many times before, but not as brutally. Dolphin watched the human sink to the sand and sit there.  
  
"But you have no memory of it, Xelloss," Dolphin stated.  
  
He only curled his arms over his head and shuddered as the tears came. He hated it so much when things came to this. His heart felt like it was being torn apart and he couldn't even remember why.  
  
"He drew it out for two months, baiting her, taunting her, letting the desperation accumulate like raindrops in a basin. When his demand finally came, Zelas couldn't possibly refuse it. She'd been stretched too far. She couldn't deny you a reprieve. That's what we decided, at least. She vanished right after she heard Grausherra's message, so I can't be certain of what exactly she was thinking. 'I think Xelloss is ready to leave his accomodations in Devil's Nest. Would you like to help move him to a new room? I'd like you to reside with him and I for awhile. You can look after him personally if you stay. Please reply promptly and in person. Xelloss can't wait to see you.' I never saw her again after that." Dolphin gazed out at the moon. "Grausherra sent her servants and me a message the next day. 'Zelas belongs to me now. Devil's Nest has been mine for five hundred years. The Ourochs are under my command. Regretfully, Beast Priest Xelloss is dead. Mourn him. He suffered.' I moved to this island shortly afterwards. Without Zelas present, the mazoku here were leaderless and lacked the proper organization for defense. For eight years, we've heard nothing new, seen nothing new. And then, one of my long term projects unexpectedly caused me to discover a Phoesid in the lands beyond the Boundary. Imagine my surprise when I found her raising a Rizendi youngling with your help." She chuckled. "Three surprises in one place, it was. Three beings who were supposed to be dead, all living together. The Nightmare Queen provides."  
  
Xelloss' shoulders still shivvered with lingering distress as he shook his head. This Lord was crazy. She had to be crazy. And he and his son were stuck on her crazy island with Zelas' crazy servant in the Dynast's crazy war.  
  
"Oh, but that's not all, Xelloss." Dolphin watched the curve of the moon glide through the clouds like a canoe through water. She smiled. "There's so much more that I must tell you. It's been a long eight years."  
  
* * *  
  
Silence and darkness wrapped around Milgasia, entrapping and commanding him. He saw and heard absolutely nothing. No matter how he struggled to, he could not speak a word. Thoughts came readily enough sometimes, but turned wispy and insubstantial just before he arrived at a conclusion.  
  
Where was he? What struck him deaf, dumb and blind? He couldn't move, could barely register his sense of touch. He was lying somewhere, and that was all he knew.  
  
But he knew where he had been, _before_...  
  
Milgasia traced in his mind the route of his past journey, hoping it would connect with his present location this time before inevitably abandoning him.  
  
_How did it come to this..._  
  
**. . .**  
  
The feeling of warm wind rippling over his wings felt so strange to Milgasia. For centuries he had soared on the bitter updrafts of frozen slopes. This warm air tickled.  
  
It was funny, in a sad way. He had never expected to see Firia again. In fact, one of his greatest hopes had been that their paths would not cross in this lifetime. But here he was, gliding over shady forests and breezy grasslands, sunny meadows and baking deserts. Such a change of scenery, such nice weather...it was like a holiday. But he wasn't on a vacation. Ceipheed above, he wished that were the case.  
  
Firia would welcome him, of course. That he was sure of. But she would immediately wonder why he had returned. Milgasia had sworn many oaths that he would not come back, and here he was, bobbing on the wind...she would want to know. And he would have to tell her everything.  
  
How could he come to her with such a plea? He was in dire need and had no one else to turn to, and she would know as much from intuition. How could he ask her like that? It was like forcing her hand. He knew she couldn't refuse him. She had a caring heart, a generous nature, and an incredible will. Of course she would help him if he asked. That was the problem. If he came to Firia with this proposal, the dragon would have no choice but to accept. It was unfair.  
  
To think he was seriously attempting such an endeavor. Milgasia felt the stab of self-disgust yet again, not even trying to shrug it off. He deserved every bit of this self-hatred. He deserved a lot of things. He was breaking a family, and for no reason that had anything to do with them. How despisable was he.  
  
He could turn around now. He could turn around and keep his promise to never see Firia again. He had made that promise to her and to himself. What was he now, that he couldn't even trust himself to keep his own word?  
  
But Milgasia knew, even as he hated himself for the deed ahead, that it had to be done. The Amizmer had so long ago appointed him Hieriphist because they knew that they could trust him to betray his family, his loved ones, his own people and even himself for the continued preservation of dragonkind. Those two thousand years ago he accepted that responsibility. He knew what it meant back then, and he knew what it meant now. There was a reason that the Amizmer trusted the Hieriphists least of all and most of all at the same time.  
  
But Firia didn't know that. She had no idea of Milgasia's position when he came to her. Her people didn't school their young too intensely on the cultures and politics of other dragons. So while Milgasia could betray his own people, it wasn't as bad as betraying Firia. His own people had elected him to do just that, and were aware of the dangers. Firia was innocent.  
  
_And she...she doesn't deserve this!_  
  
_But...so many are suffering..._  
  
_...and what if the Dynast spreads his domain even further, and one day finds a little cottage with a Phoesid and a Rizendi and a prisoner that had been stolen from him long ago? What will I do for them **then**?_  
  
_Best fly on...best tell her now, before the rats come scrabbling at her door..._  
  
**. . .**  
  
Movement. This was movement. His was sliding...sliding against...against a floor. Something was dragging him. Was Firia dragging him away...from something? Were those...talons?  
  
_...That smell...that's the smell of Ouroch._  
  
_Gods, I won't even think about that right now. How did it come to this?_  
  
**. . .**  
  
As much as he hated his role as the bearer of bad news, Milgasia looked forward to his arrival at Firia's. He wanted a warm welcome. He wanted to be in a house with a busy stove and steaming tea and the aura of everyday family life hanging over every board, shingle and nail in the place. The whole flight would be worth it for just that. A real, happy family...  
  
...A family with Xelloss in it. There's a puzzle.  
  
Wasn't that going to be interesting? Seeing Xelloss again. The whole reason for his oaths of secrecy. The reason he and Firia met. The only reason that he knew how to pull off an escape from Devil's Nest. Of all the bastards to rescue in his life...  
  
Milgasia still wondered _why_. Why the hell had he done that? The idea of performing any boon for a mazoku left a bad taste in his mouth. Sure he'd done Xelloss a few favors before. If he hadn't, he wouldn't be alive now. But being forced to help some self-important trickster with the ability to blow away a sizeable chunk of your homeland was different than willingly saving said trickster's life when he was so powerless that sugar fairies could probably put him in a bad way.  
  
And that's what Milgasia would have said, if he'd never been there that day when Xelloss crumpled at his feet, barely alive and unable to speak more than three consecutive words without crying out in pain. It was so easy to criticize decisions when you never really knew their full consequences. Milgasia had hated Xelloss before that day, just as all dragons did. Afterwards, all he could feel was pity.  
  
But what would he feel now? What a charming little scenario he'd created. Now Milgasia would get to see the real consequences of his actions. What had Xelloss become after being stripped of his status as a Mazoku? What would he be like as a...'normal' human being? Milgasia had saved a life, but what had become of that life?  
  
And for that matter, had Xelloss changed even more?  
  
His hatred for Xelloss had been replaced by pity, and that pity had then faded into...into nothing at all. He had residual feelings for the Xelloss in his memory, yes, but what of the Xelloss of the present? How do you hate or like a person that you now know absolutely nothing about?  
  
_Then again...he's still Xelloss._  
  
And for that matter, how had Firia managed to put up with him for eight years?  
  
**. . .**  
  
Milgasia finally managed to groan. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. But he was still blind and deaf to it all. His thoughts were evaporating yet again. He was lost, he was desparately lost, _and he still smelled Ourach_.  
  
Avril snickered and continued to drag her prize through the corridor. She had been waiting for so long to break in the last Hieriphist.  
  
* * *  
  
Valteria allowed himself to relax after a little while, focusing his eyes on the surrounding darkening paradise and his mind on anything but the present. He found an effective distraction in contemplating what he and his father would have for dinner if today had remained normal. This basically involved inventorying what he himself could cook, because trusting his dad with dinner would be extremely foolish.  
  
Warren snorted. "If you're hungry, you could always just ask for food."  
  
Terry's eyes widened. "You can read my _mind_?"  
  
The mazoku rolled his eyes. "No, but I can taste your feelings."  
  
"_Really_?" Terry thought about that for a few seconds. "What's hunger taste like, anyways?"  
  
"I've never found it very filling."  
  
A few moments passed before Valteria could reply. "Was...was that a joke?"  
  
Warren stood up from his lounging position and lit a cigarette. "C'mon," he said, lifting Terry to his feet. "It's probably dinnertime where you live, and keeping you alive is my job right now."  
  
They began to walk back to the house that Terry and his father had first appeared in on this island. The ancient dragon wondered about the uncertain days ahead, and if he would ever figure out whether Warren was a friend or a foe. For now, Terry would trust him. He _was_ hungry, after all.  
  
* * *  
  
Warren had taken care of Terry's dinner and shown the boy into a room nearby that was to be his. Then the mazoku gladly left the house and the boy alone together. It wasn't that Warren didn't feel a certain affinity for Valteria. It was just that everything happening was swirling about him, nagging him and threatening him, and it made him feel like being alone right now. Besides, every time Warren looked at the boy he thought of Xelloss. The old Xelloss...the real Xelloss.  
  
And it hurt.  
  
So as Warren tried to walk away from his memories, his memories walked right into him.  
  
"Warren." Dolphin's voice was as cold as the deep. "Where is the boy that I told you to watch?"  
  
The mazoku snarled. "You say it like I left him to die instead of leaving him in his room." What was the Bitch doing here, anyways? Lurking around just to taunt him? Oh. She had Xelloss with her. "At least _I_ can take care of my ward. _He_ looks terrible." Warren actually felt a little concerned for a moment. Xelloss looked pale and haunted. It brought back memories of waiting weeks on end for news of how he was faring in Devil's Nest. "What were you doing, anyway?"  
  
Dolphin plucked the cigarette out of his mouth, threw it onto the dirt, and ground it with her shoe until it was nothing but a black smudge. "I was talking to him about many things, but there is still much left to discuss. I felt that you should be present." She snapped her fingers, teleporting them all outside of the building on the beach. There were more chairs here, and a table similar to the one that Xelloss had broken. They each sat, Warren taking his seat a little reluctantly while Xelloss lowered himself very slowly, as if he were numbed.  
  
Warren blinked. _He hasn't said anything since I left him with Dolphin_. "...So. Are we going to get on with talking about what we're suppossed to talk about, _Lady_ Dolphin?" _Xelloss isn't even looking at either of us. His eyes are tracing the waves in the distance, as if they'd ever have an answer to anything... I remember seeing him like that once, when he thought I wasn't looking. That night after Fibrizo told Zelas that if she didn't send Xelloss to work for him, he'd kill her precious priest. She never did find out that Xelloss heard the whole thing. And that night...he looked so lost..._ "Let's get it over with. The mortals have to sleep, you know." _He looked just like this...as if they were really the same person._  
  
Dolphin sighed. "Such impatience." She folded her hands in her lap primly. "Well, don't badger me. I arranged this so that Xelloss could speak."  
  
Xelloss jerked his head away from the oblivion of the waves. "Me? Why?"  
  
_I asked him why he was looking at the waves, and he said..."Sometimes I forget things when I'm watching them. For just a little while."_  
  
"Because I would like you to explain something to me. In his message to Zelas' servants, Grausherra claimed that you were dead. But you are most certainly alive. Was there anything that you remember-"  
  
Xelloss' voice was quiet but not emotionless. "I don't remember anything from Devil's Nest. I don't remember anything from before it. You know that already."  
  
Dolphin brooded in silence for a moment as Warren murdered the urge to grin. The Queen then regained her composure and started anew. "Well, surely you know why you are still _alive_? And perhaps why the Dynast was angry enough to announce otherwise?" Her voice rose slightly in pitch and she leaned forward, her stance more commanding.  
  
_"It's not fair. You don't have any say in what happens to you! He'll just force your destiny to be whatever he wants, for the simple fact that he can!" That's what I told you as we watched the waves, Xelloss._ Xelloss sighed, shrinking back into his chair a bit. He knew who was in charge here. _And though you don't remember it, you seem to know that it's still true._  
  
"I don't know anything about the Dynast's actions or motivations. All I know about him is that he was apparently very talented at instructing his torturers." He rubbed his forearm, the sleeve of his shirt hiding whichever scar was on his mind. "But if I was that important to him, then he probably just got angry when I dissappeared." Xelloss paused. "Or are you just interrogating me on something I'm sensitive about to trick me into telling you how I got out of Devil's Nest because you think I'd lie if I were asked straight out? Perhaps because you think I'm lying about exactly how much I remember?" Xelloss cocked his head, looking Dolphin straight in the eye. "Is that it?"  
  
_And then you looked at the waves for a very long time, and said, "No, Warren. It's not fair. But it's okay, because no one can ever really trap me."_  
  
Dolphin, again, was silent for a moment. "Very well," she said a little less imperiously, "how did you escape?"  
  
"Escape? I didn't escape. I was rescued. By my wife." He sighed. "Firia didn't really want to tell me much about the experience, and to be honest, I was all too willing to let her be lax with the details. But I can tell you a few things at least.  
  
"Firia was used to my occasional disappearances. When your partner is the Beast Priest, the occasional work-related absence is to be expected. But she grew worried after awhile. Still, how do you go about searching for a mazoku whose homeland is thousands of miles away?  
  
"Then an old Amizmer...'friend' of mine arrived and told her where I was. He was a Hieriphist, and because of his position the Ourachs invited him to...watch...me. While I'm hated enough among dragons, they're soppy enough to take pity on things like...like what was happening to me. So he decided that he wanted to free me...I think there was something political going on as well, but Firia wasn't sure of exactly what was happening beyond what affected us. Anyways, he used his position to get guard duty, and Firia snuck in with an invisibilty charm. The Ourachs didn't think that a dragon would break dragon law, so the wards didn't affect their own kind. It was surprisingly easy to get me out. I just...Firia said I was broken then. My astral form was broken, and they'd warped me into something I was not. I was some sort of half-human half-mazoku...but my mazoku side was so damaged that when she healed me, I pretty much turned human. She always seemed really hesitant to tell me about that healing part, for whatever reason...anyways, she took me home, healed my physical injuries, and married me. I learned to be human. We never really heard anything from the outside world until very recently."  
  
Dolphin folded her hands and perched her chin on them. "Until today, in fact."  
  
"No," Xelloss said, shaking his head. "Until about a week ago. After all these years, Milgasia paid us a visit. It was very strange to see him after all this time. Everyone else in my home life is a part of my world...Milgasia is part of the past." He paused as he saw Dolphin and Warren's expressions. "What?"  
  
Dolphin schooled her voice into staying calm. "Why was Milgasia visiting you?"  
  
"Oh! I didn't mention, did I? Milgasia was the Hieriphist who helped rescue me. He said his curiosity finally got to him after all these years, and he had to come see how we made out. He and Firia talked about dragon things and then Milgasia decided to accompany her on a merchant run. That's why she wasn't with us when Warren, uh...made his 'visit'. Anyways, yeah, Firia hardly ever gets to see any other dragons, so I was pretty happy for her. Still, it was very weird for me, and I was kinda glad that he left, hah." Xelloss faked a chuckle in an attempt to rid himself of the increasing nervousness that Dolphin and Warren's stares were giving him.  
  
The Mazoku Lord was the first to speak. "Well! That's interesting, I suppose. Amizmer can be so strange! Warren, why don't you see if Xelloss desires something to eat before he goes to sleep? While you're at it, you can...tell him anything that you feel you need to. Yes." She vanished right there, just as Warren began to voice a protest.  
  
Xelloss looked to Warren, perplexed. "What? What did I say?"  
  
Warren growled and lit a cigarette. Of course. The Bitch was leaving him with the painful explanations and the trouble of dealing with Xelloss' reactions to them. Of course. He sighed, standing up as he did so. "It's strange, you know? How I get stuck with all the hard tasks." _Forgetting...that would make it so much easier, wouldn't it? That would make it all go away. But no matter how hard you try, Xelloss...you can never bury the past beneath the waves._ "Come on. We'll have dinner in my room."  
  
_Damnit, Milgasia. Why did you have to take your problems to Firia? How did you think you could win with only her as your ally? Did you really think the Dynast would let you steal from him **twice**?_  
  
Xelloss let himself be led up to the house, wondering as he walked a little unsteadily. _What are those two so upset about?_   
  


* * *  
  



	7. Memoir Chapter 6

**Memoir - 6**

"I...already know your name. You are Dynast Grausherra."

The mazoku smiled, leaning towards Firia until their noses almost touched. "Very good, Firia. But you may call me Grausherra."

Firia drew her breath in sharply as his hair slid over her chest, black and smooth, cold and soft, and very, very familiar with her. His lips barely brushed her ear as he whispered those five words:

"Why are you so afraid?"

Just as every time before, despite all of her terror and any wishes to the contrary, something compelled Firia to answer. It was beyond anything she could possibly deny.

"Because I was right all along." Firia breathed the words up, tiny bubbles emerging from the sea of her soul.

Skin twitched, almost stroked against her ear. He was smiling. "Tell me what you were right about."

And with that, the bubbles surged upwards in a great rush, colliding and dancing and glittering and merging. Little bits of her soul, growing abundant as the Dynast's command invited her to breathe in the sea of his soul. But wasn't it the sea of her soul? But she was drowning...drowning inside of him...

She was speaking...

"When we arrived here, I was right in thinking that Milgasia did not seem to know his way as well as he should have. I was right in thinking the same for me. I was right when I feared the Hierephists' cell could be impossible to enter. When Milgasia tried to open the way for us despite such suspicions, I was right in thinking that he would fail. I was right in thinking that he would hurt himself. I was right in thinking that if I stayed with his body, I would be caught along with him. But I don't know if I was right when I thought that it would be impossible to escape anyway, as the alarms sounded and the air grew hot. I was right when I told myself that he was safer with me than alone. When the energy crackled around us, I was right to be afraid.

"When they interrogated me, sitting in that birdcage of a cell, I was right in thinking that I might as well be alone. I was right about his condition, he did not wake up. I was right when I told myself that no matter how many times I refused to answer, the interrogators would still ask. But I was also right in coming to the conclusion that they wouldn't hurt me. Because they were right in deducing that I wouldn't answer even if they did.

"I was wrong in thinking it couldn't get any worse."

Silk slid against her cheek now. No, not his lips. His fingers, his hand. His silk gloves. "Tell me more, Firia."

"I-I was wrong when I thought she would take the child if I didn't give myself to her. But I was right...I was right in being afraid of her. But speaking with her taught me that I was wrong in thinking, at the beginning of this journey, that the other races of dragons would be easy to understand. I was wrong in thinking that any of this would be easy to understand. I was so, so wrong..."

"Tell me what you were right about." The hand, the silk, slid down. It rested against her jawline, beckoning to her mouth.

"When you walked into the room, I knew that you were Grausherra."

Another twitch of silk against her ear. Another smile.

"I was wrong to be afraid before then. I shouldn't have worried over silly things. I shouldn't have cared. I shouldn't...I can't..." The water rushed around her ears, bubbles rushing against her face so fast and hard that they should bruise her. Drowning. He was drowning her. "When you entered, for the first time in my life I was right. Because I was afraid."

Silence filled her ears, the water gone. Her body was dry, the rushing of bubbles around her face only a memory. She wasn't drowning anymore.

The touch of silk had vanished, but so had Grausherra.

Safe but so very not safe.

"Thank you, Firia. That was wonderful." His voice poured into her ears. He was behind her, the clinking of glass and slosh of liquid hinting at his unseen motions. "You are a beauty to behold, a pleasure to listen to," He glided to her side, a great shadow in the corner of her eye. "And when asked a question, you answer me." A star glittered from the dark nightshape. He held a wineglass, light glinting off of the base. In it swam a liquid of such a vibrant amber that it seemed to glow. He rested the rim against her lips.

"I'm sure this ordeal has been tiring for you, and it would shame me to be inhospitable to a guest. And it _is_ my pleasure to serve you, Firia."

There was no hint of a question in his tone, and it was not an order. Grausherra simply had not given consideration to any possibility of Firia refusing the drink. In his mind, that option did not exist. So for Firia, it did not exist either.

At least, this was the conclusion she preferred to come to, instead of thinking about what would happen if she actually said no to him.

Warren was silent as he led Xelloss up to his room. And as much as the human might think so, it wasn't because he was angry at Xelloss. No, that wasn't it at all. Warren _was_ very angry -- at _Dolphin_.

_As cruel as she always has been, as ignorant, stubborn...as determined as she always has been to completely disregard the emotions and feelings of others...as much as she's outright tried to hurt me from the moment she ever laid those cold, black glass eyes on me...I actually can't believe she's making me tell him._

Warren lit a cigarette as he walked into his room.

_I hate her so much. I hate her so fucking much!_

Xelloss followed Warren in, stepping lightly and making absolutely sure not to touch anything. It was less like walking on eggshells and more like walking on actual eggs. He didn't want Warren to crack again. That could only result in something bad.

Warren took a drag off of his cigarette and then shook his head, exhaling smoke. "Sit down. Sit on the bed. And stop looking so damn skittish. You're making me nervous." He put the cigarette in his mouth, freeing up both hands and enabling him to smoke even faster. He made a very brief gesture with all ten fingers, then tapped twice on the surface of a table near the bed. There was a flash, and then a circle a little under a foot in diameter glowed from the tabletop.

Xelloss blinked. A variant on "...a summoning spell?"

Warren nodded absently, focusing most of his attention on his cigarette and his thoughts. "Just wait a little. You won't faint before it comes, I promise." His voice was a little warmer with that last part. _Let him eat before I tell him. He needs to eat anyways. I hope he isn't getting a headache already. Dolphin kept him out too damn long. Probably telling him all sorts of things just to see how upset she could make him._ "Hey, what did the old hag tell you?"

Xelloss looked away. His fingers began to twitch a bit. He curled them into fists to keep them still. "Just...about Devil's Nest. About it and the Dynast. How it was all really the Dynast's fault. How I was just bait for him to capture Zelas with. Just...that."

Warren opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

Xelloss' voice was low, and it seemed far away. "Just...stuff you knew already, I'm sure."

The mazoku's mouth opened and closed twice before he finally got the words out. "You didn't _know_?"

"I guess not." Xelloss closed his eyes and shook his head, half-smiling. "It's so stupid to have to say that. 'I guess I didn't know.' 'I guess it must have happened.' There's not much of the past that's for me to know. There are so many things that I think I know, that I'm pretty certain of. But I don't know what support there is for any of my hunches. I thought all this time that it was the dragons that had done all this. That they had called me in for a final reward for all my crimes. I guess, because I have no memory of Devil's Nest, that anything is possible. I can't know why I'm so certain it was the dragons...why even though I know it must be true, that it's so hard to believe that after all this time, it was really the Dynast..."

Warren puffed at his cigarette, his voice flat. "It was hard for anyone to believe when it happenned. It's not so surprising that it would be a shock to you, I guess." _But he was **there**. Sure his memory is gone, but still...he would be the first to find it a familiar idea!_

"It's not just a shock." Xelloss leaned over, his head in his hands. His fingers dug into dark purple hair. "It goes against...I was just convinced..." He took a deep breath. "There were a lot of things I just knew, Warren. Things about old friends, things about the world...my few certainties. And now some of those certainties are gone, and - and why was I so certain to begin with?" The rise in pitch of his voice was muffled slightly by his position, but it still caught Warren's attention.

"What were you so certain about?" He glanced to the side, at the summoning circle. Damnit, the food was so slow! He wondered if he should cut this conversation short until Xelloss had some food.

...But Warren wanted to know what reality Xelloss had thought he was living in all this time.

"See, there's just things...I know so much about magic still. I can recite curses so long they encompass volumes of books. There's the diagrams I've drawn, just drawn to prove I still could do it, there's ways to channel energy that I can almost still _feel_. I still know the exact spot on which energy first coalesces into your palm when you cast Blast Bomb. I know all that and I can't use it. I can't even cast the simplest light spell. It's all useless, but at least it proves that I was once what my mind says I was. I can remember Lina, almost every experience I've had with Lina and her friends. I remember Seyruun's soft-serve ice cream. I remember meeting Milgasia with Lina and smiling at how afraid he was of me, but I can't remember the events in the Kouma War that made him so terrified of me in the first place. I don't remember a single Mazoku Lord, not their faces, not their voices. Just their names and some trivia about them that any second-rate Mage Guild apprentice could recite. I didn't remember...didn't remember one thing about Zelas, except..."

"I..."

"I thought she wanted to kill me for turning traitor. I remember -- no, I don't remember, just know -- I know I said something, I know when they tortured me I told them things, and I knew, _I knew_, that when Zelas found me she'd kill me for giving up her secrets, and -- and -- I --"

Xelloss hunched over, fingers clawing into his scalp. "_Why was I so sure of something like that, something I had no way of knowing_? Why was I so sure when I was so _wrong_!"

Warren had no idea what to say to Xelloss. He knew how to comfort his Xelloss, but this one, he...he didn't want to, couldn't stand to treat them alike. He didn't want to touch this Xelloss. He almost wanted to hit him for thinking those things about Zelas. Thankfully, the food saved him from having to make a decision. Xelloss' plate popped up right at that moment.

Xelloss looked up as he heard something slide towards him. Warren had moved the small table nearer to him. The plate that had appeared was stacked high with meat and vegetables steaming over a bed of rice.

"We...Xelloss and I, we had a restaurant in Atlas City that we rather favored, so we eventually just made a direct portal to its kitchen from here for when being around its patrons was annoying." Warren didn't look at Xelloss while he spoke. He seemed to want to look at anything else right now. "You'll want something to drink with that." He summoned a glass of water and set it on the table.

Xelloss let the silence stretch out longer as he ate. It was safe, almost like a blanket around the whole room, keeping everything peaceful. So far he got the feeling that Warren liked him better when he wasn't talking, anyways.

Warren waited for quite a bit of time to pass before he started speaking again. He wanted to give the food some time to soak into Xelloss, however that worked. Human biology was arcane and sometimes frightening. He'd learned that lesson well enough when he taught himself how to smoke.

But it looked like the food was sinking in now.

So it was time to tell him.

_...Damnit._ Warren found himself needing another cigarette. His fingers went through the twists and turns of making one. _I don't want to tell him. Not now. Not yet. It isn't **fair**. Dolphin has no idea how it'll affect him. It'll drive him crazy. He'll want to go out and rescue her, on his own if he has to. He'll fight anyone who tries to stop him. And if he does try to get her back..._

He'll die trying.

So it's useless to tell him about something that he can't change, something that will only make things worse for him now.

Fuck it. Dolphin can pass on her own cryptic messages. **I** know that he's not ready for it. **I** know what's best for Xelloss.

"Xelloss." Warren's voice cut through the blanket of silence.

The human looked up from his meal with a little concern. Warren was talking again. This could be bad. "Yes?"

"I'm going to look after you while you're here. I know I'm not very trustworthy, and I probably wouldn't trust me anyways. But I'm going to be the one on this island who you can depend on. I...I don't feel right about a lot of things about you. You're just going to have to deal with that. I'm going to have to deal with that. I just don't want...I just...no matter what, Xelloss..." Warren rested his forehead against his palm, fingers digging into his bangs. "Look, you can't trust Dolphin! I know I'm no good, and I deserve what happens to me, but you're not...you...you didn't do anything to deserve that bitch's lies, and she can't use you like she does everyone else!"

Xelloss just stared at him, apparently too shocked to speak. Warren sighed, tossing his hair away from his eyes, somehow lighting the cigarette in the same motion. He took a quick puff off of it, then looked over to Xelloss.

"I know, I know. You think I hate you." Warren pulled a chair up by the bed and sat across from Xelloss. The distance between them was wide enough to make them both feel safe from each other, but narrow enough to lend Warren's words a little bit of familiarity. "That's kind of true. Every time I look at you, I think of what I lost. But...Xelloss was like a brother to me. And you do look like him. And arguably you are him. Though I'm angry just being around you and listening to you."

Xelloss raised an eyebrow. "Just to clarify: You _are_ trying to engender _trust_, right?"

Warren rolled his eyes and took another drag from the cigarette. "Yes. I suppose that was my intent."

"...just checking."

The mazoku sighed. "It's tiring being around you. You're a brat and a bother. But just because of all that, I'm not going to let Dolphin hook her claws into you."

His eyes met with Xelloss' at that statement. Xelloss realized, as he felt himself break into a sweat, that Warren was dead serious. "What does she want with me? For eight years I've known nothing and done nothing worth noting. I'm just human. I'm a brat and a bother, as you so kindly put it."

Warren paused for a moment, trying to decide how best to say it all. Damn it all. There was such a lot of it to tell. "For you to understand that, you have to understand Dolphin. It's hard to impart just how...how...that..bat..._is_." He sighed, ruffling his bangs again. "Here. Let me just tell you what started all of this." He paused for another hit of his cigarette, then realized that all he had left was a very short stump and a coal. He flicked them out of existence, grumbling as he rolled up another. There. Light...and drag.

Xelloss didn't have such convenient, unhealthy distractions. He took a long gulp of water from his glass just to have something to focus on. But the feel of water rushing into him, the wave of cold, helped a little to clear his mind. This day was too long. He was losing track of the revelations, something new always jumping in front of whatever else he'd just learned, demanding his attention. It reminded Xelloss of his occasional thoughts on having several Valterias instead of just one. It was like there was a herd of small children in his brain keeping track of all of this. No wonder he felt so scrambled. And now...more. Warren had more shock for him, more knowledge to accumulate, and Xelloss was still dealing with the first problem of the day - trusting Warren himself.

And he couldn't even decide whether or not to trust Warren right now, because the mazoku was talking to him.

"Dolphin's been different from the very start. Of course, each Mazoku Lord has their own philosophy on how to best serve the Dark Mother. That's going to happen regardless. Some are more bent on destruction, others less invasive. Zelas...herself...had a very subtle way of influencing the world, and an outlook that I regarded as...well...too kind, I guess." Warren's face went a little grey anytime he spoke of Zelas, but there was a curious hue to it, almost as if he were blushing a little at the same time. Maybe with anger that he didn't want to have for her. Maybe... "Zelas agreed that the dragons were dangerous, as any hostile force is dangerous. But she had no real zeal in their destruction. She felt that the Great One intended there to be balance on this world, and that balance was in the war between our two kinds. She felt that the destruction of one force or the other would topple the world, but the dropping of conflict would do so as well. She believed in a certain force between the dragons and us, a binding force. She was never angry that I hated them so much. She said it was the right thing for my kind." That hatred burned behind those cool irises now. Xelloss could feel the heat of it. "That was Zelas's belief. Do you understand it?"

Xelloss was surprised to find that he did, that an understanding of this concept came readily to him, almost as if from that magical encyclopedia buried in his mind. "The hatred between the two races, then, is one link in the chain that holds this world together. It is a constant thing that must not be broken." Yes...it was not an alien concept to him. He'd experienced such things with Firia. It had only truly died when his mazoku half expired. He realized that Warren was looking at him strangely. As if he'd seen a ghost.

Warren told himself, over and over, that he did not hear a ghost speak. But it was exactly as his own Xelloss had once explained it to him. "Good. You understand, then." _But you can't. You can't understand that and still love her._ "That is the way Zelas understood it as well. She would not attempt to destroy the dragons entirely, but would not hesitate to attack them with all her forces if there was an imbalance. She was a caretaker of an eternal war."

Xelloss tried to imagine the demeanor of someone who could maintain a hostile balance between two forces for so long. But, he had already been certain of Zelas's intelligence. _...Was that it? Was I sure that she would attack me for upsetting her balance through the secrets I gave up in Devil's Nest? Is that why I was so afraid?_

"But _Dolphin_" -- Warren's voice cut right through Xelloss' careful introspection -- "disagreed. While she was not the only one to do so, all other Lords still agreed upon our hatred of the Dragon Race. _She_, however, believed that the balance was to be restored by preserving them. By putting aside our hate and allying ourselves with their kind." A tic developed under Warren's eye, twitching like crazy as he spoke of Dolphin's ambitions. "She tried to convince Zelas of this hundreds of times, pleading her case in every way imaginable. But Zelas stood with her beliefs. Pacifistic as they may sometimes be, they were well-grounded."

What confused Xelloss more than Dolphin's stance on dragons was Warren's dissagreement with Zelas's belief. He'd never heard of a mazoku servant opposing his master's view in that way. Though, to be fair, he wasn't exactly the most trustworthy authority on such things now.

Warren stood up now, beginning to pace a bit. Talking about _her_ made him agitated, it always did. "Dolphin thought that the Dark Mother put both the Flare Dragon and Ruby Eye on this world, so she must like both equally...the conflict between the two simply puts things into turmoil, everything would be fine if they allied, blah blah blah." Warren's bored tone perfectly reflected his disdain. "She liked the damn things more than she liked her own kind, that's what I think, and..." he lowered his voice, "she's just as much a traitor to the Mazoku as the Dynast is!" He sighed, bringing up the cigarette to his lips. "She cares for the scaly things like they're her own."

Xelloss stared ahead. "...Is that possible?" It sounded silly to ask something like that, but... "I still...when I was still a mazoku. There was always a hatred...something I could ignore, or that would turn into another passion at...sometimes the wrong moments. But I couldn't stop...couldn't stop hating her. It was how I was created, as much as I can say that. How we were all created...like a biological fact. I can't see how she could eliminate it entirely, and why she would in the first place, as a mazoku that's...that's ridiculous!" Xelloss felt the words pouring out of his mouth before he could stop their flow. He knew that Warren wouldn't--

"BUT YOU--" Warren cut his words' volume but couldn't cut the heat of them. "_But you were in the damn sheets with her, Xelloss_!" He couldn't coil the anger back, no matter how much he--but he wasn't trying, he didn't want to hold back, Xelloss had this coming. "How can you say that after even--after..._after you raised a goddamn dragon kid with her_!" He didn't _understand_ Dolphin? How could he say that? _How could he say that_?

Lavender eyes froze over, Xelloss' face going rigid, his shoulders setting in a way. Slightly hunched together. Defensive, but offensive, in a way. "You don't have to understand it, but you don't have to talk about it, either, when my son's sleeping two doors down. He's a light sleeper. And I don't like hearing that tone when you talk about him, considering how close you were to him, today." Eyes shifted over to Warren, and by gods the mazoku felt himself pinned. "I raised a family. It's not your business or your right to question that, or why I did, or when I hated my wife and why I chose to swallow that hatred down when it was still there." His eyes shifted away again. Warren welcomed their release of him. "Just tell me what you want to tell me. We can have our differences, Warren. But don't bring my family into this."

Warren felt a numbness had overtaken him. He just calmly stared ahead, down, grey eyes seeing nothing. He was leaning against the door now, cigarette perched tightly in his fingers. "Dolphin's got other ideas. Not just the dragons. It's our Mother. She sees Her actions in the events of the world...in recent events." The corner of his mouth twitched down into his cheek. "She thinks that when something is destroyed, it's a sign of warning from the Great One. So Lina Inverse has been Dolphin's barometer...she's deluded herself into thinking that the girl is a warning sent to the Mazoku from the Sea of Chaos. That's been her 'proof' of late. But see...now that the Dynast has Zelas in his clutches, there's no need for that. Dolphin's word is law here. She's our only leadership left, because ironically, Lina Inverse took care of any others there might be. Gaav was a traitor too...but at least he wasn't a full mazoku when that happened." He shuddered. "She's our only leader. We all have to listen to her. I've been the one...to relay it all to the others, to serve her directly, to attend her..." His shoulders shook again, the tremor reaching down to his feet. "She hates me so much..." The cigarette rose to his lips. Fingers clutched his face as he inhaled deeply enough to burn two inches off of the wick. "I want to get out of here so much..."

Xelloss realized that Warren's eyes were blank. The mazoku was lost, rambling at the end of things. And not likely to come back anytime soon, it seemed. Maybe...maybe Xelloss could just get to be before he came back to his senses. But no, Warren's body was blocking the door, and he'd probably notice Xelloss' attempts to move him. He sighed. Warren gave another shake.

...Had he gone on for eight years like this? Surely not. But if Dolphin had taken over Wolf Pack Island, that had to happen right after Zelas's departure. So...had she set Warren as the representative then? Gods, _why_? He didn't know which affected him more, the faulty decision or the thought of how it must have been for Warren those eight years, hating her, and her hating him. "...Why you?"

Warren gave a different sort of shake. It was like watching a startled scarecrow. Xelloss had a snippet of information peek up in his brain at that - how a mazoku's shell's physical condition often hinted that they were badly stressed, or astrally damaged. Well, 8 years of Dolphin probably did that easily enough. No wonder Warren looked a bit scrawny. But he was alert again, now. He looked over at Xelloss, a low, sidelong gaze. "Because I'm the only one that will. That can." There seemed to be no other explanations coming. Warren had essentially said, 'Because.'

Xelloss did concede that it was a valid answer. He didn't want to press. He still didn't think Warren was above breaking his arms. "So, she thinks Lina is a warning to the mazoku...a warning to stop any hostilities against the dragons." Xelloss, to be fair, weighed this in his head, thought it over as a valid theory. "...But Lina's chaotic, she hasn't just been attacking the Mazoku."

"Dolphin says she's a warning to the dragons as well." The mazoku spat this tidbit out like it had a bad taste in his mouth. Then again, his face did seem to get that cast anytime dragons were mentioned. As if he'd drunk something bitter on accident.

"Lina really...doesn't do that on purpose though. She's just out for gold. And killing bandits, and adventure, and food most of all. The only time she coordinates her efforts on a large foe is when she feels her world is threatened. She does that because she likes to go on living. She has a streak of hero...but it's not thick, not like many think. It's more love of living than love of justice. She believes in fairness...unless it means she's not on top." Xelloss sighed, smiling wistfully. "She's one of a kind. There is no side she has allegiance to. And if she heard that Dolphin thought Lina was some sort of...savior to both...well, she did pull us together, in the end. Firia and I. But she just did what needed to be done."

Warren bit down a remark on whether that last part needed to be done or not. "Are you arguing for or against Dolphin's ideas?" His eyebrow was raised, and his face looked weary...but there was a tickle of mirth buried somewhere in his tone.

Xelloss mulled it over. "I think that Lina is in a lot of places at the right time, but if she's being guided by a higher power, it isn't for what Dolphin's assumed. I...I've seen her in contact with the highest of power." Xelloss averted his eyes. There was something unreadable in his face. "I wouldn't be surprised if there's more to her than just mortal desires and depravity. However...if there is a higher purpose to her, it's as chaotic as what touched her."

"...When Fibrizo's plan killed her, you mean."

Xelloss looked up, eyes wide in surprise.

"Brother, you told me everything." Warren raised his hand swiftly, covered his mouth. His brows furrowed. Whatever expression his hand was hiding...a frown was definitely part of it. He stood, then took Xelloss gently by the arm, leading him out. "It's late. We'll talk more in the morning. Don't want to tax your frail physique." Xelloss was out before he could say a word, or see Warren drop his hand from his face. The door closed. Xelloss heard it lock against him.

_Brother._ Xelloss replayed Warren's words in his head, still not making sense of them, as he walked down the short hall and located the only unlocked room there. It must be where he was to stay here. _Brother._ He let himself in, wearier with each step. Yes, time for bed. Definitely time for bed.

_Brother._


End file.
